The New Order of Tribes
by Talphon44
Summary: A different look at what happened when the Galactica arrived at Earth. The Battlestar will set in motion a series of events that will rock the foundation of not just one civilization but multiple ones. This is my first attempt at fan-fiction, but I intend to follow through on what hopefully will be a very long story, one of many that will take place in this universe.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

General Jack O'Neill rolled over and swiped ineffectually at the phone that insisted on going off at this latest possible hour.

"Oh Lights!" he bellowed out.

The household computer monitoring the general helpfully turned the lights on in his room at a low level so as not to blind the irate human under its' care.

Finally managing to snare the offending device, O'Neill seriously considered throwing the phone out the window. He restrained himself, knowing it would simply mean that he would end up going out into his yard after the damn thing. Duty was a pain in the ass, especially at 0230 in the morning.

"What!" he yelled into the secured cell phone, before realizing that he had forgotten to activate it. Counting to three he tried again, this time making sure to activate the phone.

"What" he said in a more controlled tone.

"General O'Neill, this is the duty officer at Space Command, Sir. I'm sorry to wake you, but General Rudenko wanted me to notify you that there was a major alert going on, and that he is placing the planetary defense Task Groups on alert. He asks that you please join him at Space Command, Sir."

"Christ, do we know what the hell is going on?" O'Neill asked.

"I'm afraid I don't have that information, Sir" the unknown duty officer at Peterson Defense Base responded.

"Fine, consider me notified, I'll be there as soon as possible." And with that, Jack disconnected from the duty officer and quickly made his way toward the bathroom. His wife, long used to the late night calls, opened a single eye to stare at him before rolling over and going back to sleep.

O'Neill quickly went through his morning routine, getting into his duty uniform and moving towards the kitchen to get a cup of coffee as he called his aid on his hated secure cell phone.

"Captain Russell, how can I help you Sir?" his aid answered.

"Russell you sound way to chipper for someone I just woke up at 0300 in the morning." O'Neill snapped.

"That's because I was awake waiting on this call, Sir, the duty officer called me immediately after he got off the line with you." the young Captain answered smoothly.

"Well get me my car and meet me outside, I need to get to Space Command ASAP" O'Neill replied.

"Already waiting outside, Sir" came the reply.

"Jesus Russell, do you ever go home?" O'Neill asked.

"Yes Sir, that's why I live right next door." Came the immediate response.

"Well next time don't take so long." O'Neill replied, trying to get in the last word.

"Yes Sir, sorry Sir, won't happen again Sir." Was the reply.

"Way too many Sirs." O'Neill said as he moved toward the front door.

"Yes Sir, sorry Sir." Was the reply from his aid.

Grumbling to himself O'Neill put the phone away and opened the front door moving toward his government supplied staff car and quickly hopping in the back seat, his grinning aid holding the door open for him.

"Command" O'Neill barked at his enlisted driver/bodyguard as CPT Russell climbed in after him.

"Another day at the office, Sir." Russell stated.

"When isn't it, Gary?" O'Neill replied quietly, "When isn't it?"

The staff car proceeded quietly but quickly from the Flag Officer housing area of what used to be known as Peterson Air Force Base in Colorado Springs, and was now known as Peterson Planetary Defense Base. Inside General Jack O'Neill contemplated all of the changes that had taken place since he first reported to Colorado as a Colonel back in 1994. The Stargate program had finally been made public in 2014 (after repeated attacks from numerous alien invaders). The various governments of the world had decided that they really needed to get the information out there in a controlled manner before some Goa'uld with delusions of grandeur in a Ha'tak managed to get lucky and do it for them. After the expected mobs had screamed bloody murder for not being told earlier, things had quieted down, for about a week, then the same mobs were screaming about what exactly was being done to defend the Earth. The result had been a unified planetary defense command. A thoroughly bemused Lieutenant General Jack O'Neill had found himself gaining a fourth Star and suddenly being sent back to Colorado to first setup and then command Earth Defense Command under the auspices of the United Nations of Earth. That had been thirty-eight years ago.

Now at ninety-two, Jack O'Neill looked anything but. One of the first technologies released to the general public had been the introduction of medical techniques that quickly overcame just about every known disease or problem that afflicted humanity. One of the greatest technologies released had been Antigen or anti-aging serums, now at ninety-two General O'Neill looked and felt like he was in his early thirties. No more bum knees, no more cranky back, unfortunately from O'Neill's point of view, it meant that the new retirement age was closer to two hundred and twenty. So there went his long planned and anticipated retirement to his favorite fishing cabin, at least for the foreseeable future. Still, it wasn't a bad trade he thought with a wistful smile, he did manage to get a twenty something looking wife out of the deal, even if she was closer to forty.

Arriving at the Command Compound, literally a base within a base, O'Neill quickly disembarked and after going through the required myriad of identification confirmations, he moved toward the heavily armored doors to the Command Post proper.

General Artyom Rudenko was standing by the large holographic repeater that was the centerpiece of the current operations center for the Base. General Rudenko was the senior of the three shift commanders responsible for the management of Tau'ri Space Defense. He had started his long distinguished career as a member of the Soviet Strategic Rocket Forces that had originally pointed their missiles at the United States. The irony that he was now the Senior Commander of a planetary defense base that he at one time was tasked to destroy was not lost on him.

He looked up as the U.S. Air Force Security Guard announced the entrance of General O'Neill.

Artyom, what's going on? O'Neill asked.

Sir, approximately fifty minutes ago we detected an intra-solar energy spike, at that point we detected a large target just beyond the orbit of the moon. Lunar defense base 12 scrambled a squadron of 401s to intercept the target, and we have multiple warships closing the datum. We've contacted the unknown and have yet to receive a response.

O'Neill turned to the HR (holographic repeater) and peered into the representation of near space, one section of the large repeater had been zoomed in and the image of a large unknown and badly damaged ship was seen.

O'Neill whistled softly at the apparent damage visible on the unknown ship, scorch marks and other obvious damage adorned the flanks of the darkly painted warship. That it was a warship was apparent, the large cannons of some type located on the dorsal area of the ship a dead giveaway. Some areas of the ship still glowed a sullen angry orange, evidence that the damage was recent. A single F401 Space Superiority Fighter flashed passed the port side of the ship getting detailed scans of the surface areas.

Any idea who that might belong too? Jack asked.

Well our sensors say their human, plus something else, maybe an offshoot or something, in either case the second species on the ship is close enough so as not to matter. The ship itself, while large, is rather primitive, we aren't detecting any naquadah emissions, and relatively low yield atomics of some type. No evident shielding, and these things, Rudenko said as he pointed to the dorsal gun mounts, appear to be large coil guns of some type. No energy weapons of any type are readily visible, and to be honest General, my resident techs don't believe that the energy output from this ship is high enough to power anything other than low yield lasers anyway. Our warbook doesn't recognize it nor any part of the technology, and the Battle Intelligence doesn't have a clue either. But there is this, Rudenko said, as he leaned forward and touched the starboard pod of the ship.

Instantly the pod zoomed in, and in recognizable English was a single word " _Galactica_ ".

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LT. JG Melisa "Misty" Godwin throttled back as her F401C passed over the huge assumed-to-be warship. The ship was badly damaged, severe pitting and visible cracks attesting to many hard fought actions. The unknown was like nothing in Earth's inventory, many of the new ships that Earth had commissioned or was in the process of commissioning were as large, or in the case of the SCS or DN class even larger. Still, Misty thought that the ship had character; it looked like a warship, all business.

"Misty, lead."

Misty, brought her attention back into the cockpit, and keyed her secure communications system.

"Lead, Misty, go."

"Misty, I want you to do a slow pass over the bow of that thing, see if you can spot any windows or anything that might be a bridge."

Misty clicked her radio twice in the affirmative, and swung the 401 around, reducing power even more; she fired her RCSs and deactivated her inertia-less field. The F401 swung its nose around to point at the alien warship even as inertia carried the fighter toward the bow of the craft.

"Lead, Misty. I am negative on windows or any structure that may be a bridge. I do see evidence of weapon mounts, looks like they may have been removed sometime in the past. Nothing else of immediate interest."

"Roger that Misty, break off and form back up, will see what Home Plate wants us to do."

"Roger, breaking off." Misty's 401 reactivated its inertia-less field and suddenly accelerated away from the unknown visitor, the fighter had been sliding away from the _Galactica_ on inertia when suddenly she took off in the direction that her nose was pointing at the moment, the pilot feeling nothing more than 1g worth of acceleration. Melisa loved flying fighters, and the 401 was as lethal and as responsive as it got in three known galaxies, she whooped as she pulled away, almost better than sex she thought.

LT CMDR Williams (RN) shook his head as his young wingman pulled back into formation with him. Bloody showoff, ah to be young again. His flight of sixteen fighters assumed a loose escort formation around the unknown warship. She was a sorry sight, badly mauled, but human built. So many differing branches of humanity had been contacted in the last forty years, but rarely were any of them space-faring; this could potentially be a great day. Or a horrible day, he thought pessimistically, after all, something beat the stuffing out of this thing.

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"XO Report." Admiral William Adama said as he stood up, grasping at his shoulder.

Colonel Saul Tigh took a second to check on his wife, making sure she was fine, before moving off toward the ship's status board. What he saw took his breath away.

"She's broke her back, we're stuck here. Multiple decompression, DRADIS is coming back up." Tigh reported as he turned back to his commanding officer and friend.

Adama turned toward the DRADIS display, there was a great deal of static on the display, but it was slowly clearing, and suddenly there was a multitude of unknown contacts on it.

"What the frak." Adama whispered softly.

DRADIS was showing hundreds of contacts in near proximity to the _Galactica_ , hundreds, no thousands, more further away. Some of the contacts were huge; many others were the same size as the Battlestar.

"Starbuck, where in the hells did you send us?" Adama directed at the young blonde woman standing beside the navigation controls.

Tigh moved up next to the Admiral, and looked him in the eye. "Out of the frying pan."

"And into the fire." Adama finished.

Adama turned away from his friend and directed his next question to the other Colonial officers within the CIC. "How many Vipers do we have left?"

There was no answer from the shocked officers and petty-officers milling about.

"How many times does the Old Man have to ask, before one of you gets off your lazy ass and answers him?" Tigh, ever in character, roared out.

Chief Tyrel shook himself, and buried his grief for the moment, moving toward the flight ops station he contacted the hanger deck to get an answer for the Admiral.

Adama smiled at his President, Laura Roslyn, before turning back toward Tigh. "If these are Cylons, were done." He said in a low voice.

"If they are, than it's been a pleasure and an honor Bill" Tigh replied equally quietly.

The Chief Petty officer manning the wireless station suddenly pressed his earpiece in and looked up, a shocked expression on his face.

Adama looked over at the man and asked "What is it Chief?"

In reply the Chief activated the overhead speakers and slowly lowered his hands to his side.

"...with deadly force. I repeat. Unknown vessel, this is Tau'ri Space Command, you have entered Earth Planetary Defense Zone. This is restricted space! You are ordered to heave to, identify yourself and state your intentions. Any attempt at aggressive action will be met with deadly force. I repeat. Unknown vessel…"

Adama turned a stunned look toward President Roslyn, even as she began to slowly sit down on the floor, a blank look on her face.

Adama took a few breaths to calm himself, outwardly composed, every inch a Colonial Officer, inside he was struggling to keep it together. What were the chances? Earth, it can't be, Earth was a desolate wasteland, blasted apart in another useless war eons past. All these thoughts raced through his head, threatening to overwhelm him. When he raised his eyes toward the communications Chief he looked like the Admiral always did, a calm in the middle of the storm.

"In the future Chief, I would appreciate it if you would just send it down to my station, rather than blasting it across my CIC" Adama said conversationally into the now silent CIC.

"Go ahead and give me a line Chief."

"Yes Sir, you're on Admiral."

Adama took one more moment before pulling the sound powered phone from its cradle.

"To Tau'ri Space Command, this is the Colonial Battlestar _Galactica_ , Admiral William Adama commanding."

There was a long pause, and then a different voice speaking Caprican but with an odd accent, almost Tauron in nature replied."

" _Galactica_ , I am General Artyom Rudenko, commanding officer of Tau'ri Space Command. The entire Sol System is considered Restricted Space; please state your place of origin and reason for being here?"

"General, we are a fleet unit of the Colonial Navy in the service of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol. We are all that remains of our civilization; we are part of a refugee fleet and have arrived at this location by accident. We mean no harm. General, can you please state the name of this planet again?"

Again there was a pause, and Adama realized he was also holding his breath, and then.

"Admiral, this is the planet Earth, also known as the home of the Tau'ri."

This time there was a thunderous cheer in CIC, civilians, naval personnel, and even Cylons joining in the back slapping and yells of joy. Tigh let it go for a full five seconds, and then bellowed "Silence in the CIC, where do you think you are?"

General Rudenko muted his headpiece and turned to look at General O'Neil. "Refugees and they got here by accident? I don't believe in that kind of luck General."

O'Neil slowly nodded in agreement with the Russian General. "I agree. I've seen a lot of crazy things in my time at Stargate Command, but luck like this doesn't exist. Still they are human, and that ship even if it was pristine, hell a fleet of those things would hardly be a danger to Earth. I'll contact the Department of Extraterrestrial Affairs and have them send a diplomat to meet with these Colonials. If they are refugees, and based on the condition of that ship I tend to believe they are, than we need to help them."

Rudenko reactivated the headpiece and turned to study the _Galactica_ on his screens. _Galactica_ , can you confirm that you are a member of a refugee fleet?"

The response was quick in coming back. "Confirmed Tau'ri Space Command, refugee fleet of one Battlestar, forty-seven civilian ships, and forty-eight thousand two hundred and twenty-eight souls." Replied the gruff sounding Admiral orbiting above his head.

Rudenko smiled despite himself, this Admiral Adama sounded every bit the no-nonsense leader that he would expect to command a ship that managed to survive some type of catastrophe and bring survivors with him.

" _Galactica_ , state the location and condition of the remaining civilian vessels"

"Space Command, remaining civilian vessels are holding position within a dozen light years of this system. The vessels are in poor but serviceable condition. The civilians are in cramped conditions and surviving on minimal subsistence levels" was the reply after a short pause.

Rudenko understood completely where this Colonial Admiral was coming from; he wouldn't want to give up the location of what were essentially completely helpless ships to an unknown power either. Still, he had different responsibilities as Commander of Earth Defense. Muting his headset again, he turned toward his 2IC, a Brigadier General who had formerly been a member of the US Air Force.

"How in the hell did forty plus Alien spacecraft get within a dozen light years of Earth and we don't have a clue about it? Find me those ships General, find them now. I want to know their condition, and I want to know how they managed to get so damn close to us."

The one Star acknowledged his orders and moved off to try and find the rest of the Colonial Ships. General O'Neil watched as the one Star General move off with some alacrity. General Rudenko had everything well in hand, and it was his command anyway, so O'Neil his mood brightening somewhat decided to make quite a few phone calls. After all if he was awake, than why not spread the wealth.

Rudenko acknowledge his nominal superior leaving with a nod of his head before turning away to continue his instructions to the _Galactica_.

Back on the _Galactica_ , Adama lowered the sound powered phone after answering the latest question from the Tau'ri General, as to the status and location of his civilian ships. President Roslin spoke up in the long pause that followed.

"What do you think they're doing?" she asked.

Tigh answered from beside Adama. "Probably trying to figure out if were telling the truth about the civvies, and if we are then where are they."

Adama pulled his glasses off and squeezed the bridge of his nose, and then turned toward his President.

"Col. Tigh is probably right, Madam President. We're the unknown here, a large battle damaged ship suddenly appears in orbit around their planet, claims it's a refugee ship, and by the way we have almost fifty more ships as well. They don't know us, and have no reason to trust us. We may be a threat to them"

Col. Tigh piped up at that moment. "Or it's the other way around, anyone that claims an entire Solar system as restricted space when something like a Battlestar shows up, either has big guns or big balls, or most likely both."

Adama hid a small smile at the way his gruff XO delivered his succinct analysis of the current situation, he was about to reply when the wireless crackled again.

" _Galactica_ , we will escort you away from near Earth space, you will follow one of our ships and enter orbit around our moon, we will arrange for a member of our diplomatic corps to meet with your representatives on one of the lunar bases, they will discuss your refugee status. We will provide transport to the lunar base; do not launch any small craft. We guarantee your safety as long as you are within our space and follow our instructions. Are these terms acceptable to you?"

Adama glanced at Roslin, who smiled and nodded her head, before keying his phone. "Those terms are acceptable General; will you be there at the base as well?"

A slight pause and then "Yes Admiral I will, I look forward to meeting with you."

"As do I General" Adama Replied.

"Your escorts will be there shortly, Tau'ri Space Command out"

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Following close behind the _Galactica_ and slightly above her was a Tau'ri CA433 class Heavy Cruiser, the _Suffren_ , along with her two DD422 class escorts the _Ranjit_ and _Allen M. Sumner_ , the cruiser acknowledged receipt of her orders and contacted the _Galactica_.

" _Galactica,_ this is the Tau'ri heavy cruiser _Suffren_ , Captain Natsuki Miyake commanding. "

" _Suffren_ actual this is _Galactica_ actual, will you be acting as our escort?"

" _Galactica_ actual affirmative, I will be taking up station approximately fifteen-hundred kilometers off your bow, please follow us to Lunar orbit, my two destroyers will be holding position abeam of you, and will act as close escort, please do not deviate from our course, we will maintain a speed of .001C, is this acceptable?"

"One tenth of one percent of the speed of light? Either they're real slow, or they're taking it easy on us." Tigh said.

"Neither, I bet this General Rudenko is on the planet, he needs time to get to the moon, at this speed it will take us a little over twenty minutes to get there." Adama replied.

" _Suffren_ actual, _Galactica_ actual, those instructions are acceptable, we will fall in astern of you, _Galactica_ out."

"Makes sense, plus they need to find the suit that they plan on having talk to us." Tigh replied.

"Well this suit." Roslin said as she walked up. "Needs to get ready, plus I'm going to need some help during this meeting."

Adama took a good long look at the President, she looked pale as well as out of breath, and it seemed obvious that she was going on willpower alone. One of the Cylon Sixes, as well as one of the Twos, had walked up to the group as well. The Six, Caprica, began speaking in an almost breathless voice; it seemed the stress of the moment had gotten to her as well.

"The Cylons need to have a representative at this meeting; we're a different species and should be heard as well as the Colonials. We can't just be expected to fall in line with whatever agreement you and the Thirteenth Tribe come up with. It would go a long way to building the level of trust between our peoples.

Roslin held up a hand to forestall anything else the Six may have been ready to say.

"We don't even know if these people are the Thirteenth tribe, apparently the name Earth is fairly common, this is after all the second one we've found. As for the rest, I agree, you do need to have a representative there. While I am not ready to forgive what happened, the fact is that you and your faction fought and died alongside us, that gives me some small hope. So have one or two of your people get ready to go with us. Admiral, I assume you will be going as well?" Roslin paused for a second to receive a nod from Adama, before continuing. "I think that Gaius Balter should accompany us as well, maybe get an idea what these people are capable of, an aid apiece, and a couple of Marine escorts. I want to keep this as small as possible; hopefully they're willing to help us".

"We'll find out soon enough Madam President." Adama replied as he turned toward the approaching Chief Tyrel. "Chief, what do you have for me?"

"Admiral, we have seventeen Vipers in the hanger right now, four Raptors, and four Heavy Raiders. My deck hands are working as quickly as they can, rearming and refueling them. We'll have six of the Vipers ready and moving into their tubes in about fifteen more minutes. We can have the Raptors and Heavy Raiders rearmed and spotted in the port pod ready to go fifteen minutes after that. The rest of the Vipers are at least an hour away." Tyrel reported.

"Thanks Chief, I hope we don't need them, or we're going to be in a world of hurt." Adama answered the haunted looking young man.

"Col. Tigh you have the ship, I'm going down to my cabin and change for this meeting. I recommend that the rest of us that are going down to the Tau'ri base get cleaned up and changed if possible, just because we're refugees doesn't mean we have to look like it. Madam President will you accompany me?

"Of course Admiral." Roslin said as she took his arm and accompanied him out of the CIC, back straight and a smile on her face. As soon as they were out of the CIC she leaned heavily on him and slowed her pace somewhat.

"Are you ok, Laura?" Adama asked worriedly.

"No, but does it really matter Bill? I'm the President I've got to take part in these initial meetings; we don't want them to think were some sort of military junta or something do we?" She replied with a slight smile.

"Probably not, don't want the wrong impression now do we. Do you want to stop by Cottle; maybe he can give you something to make you feel better?"

Roslin smiled wistfully, at the obvious care and worry in Adama's voice. "No Bill, I just want to get this over with, and meet these people. If they are the Thirteenth, than we're home, and I 'll feel a lot better then."

General Rudenko accepted a computer pad from his aid as he walked at a brisk pace toward the ring room located in the command post. Glancing down, he noted that an image of numerous ships was depicted on it, including one large starfish shaped craft. Keying the pad he scrolled down and quickly scanned the available information. One of the deep space listening post had finally located the supposed Colonial Refugee Fleet, 48 ships not 47. This large Starfish shaped ship was also no civilian ship, he watched in real time as it launched and recovered fighter patrols. An accidental omission or a deliberate attempt at misinformation? He'd have to see what this Admiral Adama had to say.

The secure door to the ring room slid open and Rudenko and the young Captain acting as his aid stepped into the center of the chamber. Rudenko looked over at his Aid "Ready to make history Stephen?"

The rings activated, and they were transported away before the young Captain could respond.

The _Suffren_ decelerated as she approached Lunar orbit, the _Galactica_ sliding into orbit as the _Suffren_ pulled up and away taking station above and behind the Battlestar, preparing to intervene if the Colonial warship attempted any kind of aggressive maneuver.

No sooner did the Galactica take her assigned position than a mid-sized SP347 shuttle approached the ship.

" _Galactica_ control, this is Griffin 311, requesting approach and landing instructions".

"Griffin 311, this is _Galactica_ approach, you are cleared for the port landing pod, hands on approach, and I say again, manual approach. Maintain slow speed approach, upon entering the pod there is a well-marked small craft elevator to the starboard side of the pod half way down with a number four on it. How copy?" A male voice replied.

" _Galactica_ approach roger, I copy hands on approach, port pod, maintain slow speed. Small Craft elevator 4, starboard side." The Tau'ri pilot answered.

In the port LSO's compartment on the _Galactica_ the Captain on duty turned to the Petty Officer sharing the space with him, and asked. "Who the hell is Roger?"

The SP347 slid in precisely, if somewhat carefully into the port pod and decelerated smoothly, her Goa'uld derived Gravitic drive bringing the craft to a stop in the center of the oversized and rarely used number four elevator.

" _Galactica_ control, Griffin 311, craft down, engines powered down, shuttle is secure, and ready for transfer." The pilot reported, before turning to his co-pilot, "Well here we go, hope they're friendly."

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Adama in company with President Roslin, and the Cylon number three Biers stepped forward as the warning lights and siren started to sound as the large service vehicle elevator carrying the Tau'ri shuttle began to drop. Arrayed behind them was Maj. Agathon, acting as Adama's aid, a Ms. Lindquist from the President's office, and a number two, Leoben Conoy. Adama took a final look around, lingering on the two Colonial Marines that would be accompanying them. "You two understand that at no time are you to take any type of aggressive action unless it is in defense of this group?"

Both Marines answered in the affirmative and tried to stand at a position of ease despite the obvious nerves they were experiencing.

It was at this moment that Balter ran up to the group still trying to straighten his tie. Roslin looked over at him, spearing him with a look. "Good of you to join us Gaius."

"My apologizes Madam President, but I didn't exactly have a suit handy on such short notice." He replied in his trademark condescending way.

Adama turned back toward the elevator as the Tau'ri shuttle became visible, his practiced eye roving over the obviously well maintained spacecraft. The craft itself was about the same size as a Cylon Heavy Raider, with no obvious weapon mounts, on it. It was sleek and possessed over-sized windows, what looked like Caprican standard script was emblazoned on the forward side of the craft along with a tail number, much like any Colonial small-craft would have.

"Well here we go, hope their friendly." President Roslin whispered in a low voice to Adama and then she froze as the hatch in the side of the vehicle slid open.

The first ones out of the vehicle were two Tau'ri Marines. Wearing advanced light armor and carrying APC1000, assault carbines, they quickly surveyed the area and then the group, taking note of the two Colonial Marines, they then moved to either side of the shuttle's hatch and assumed a relaxed but alert posture. The next individual out of the vehicle was a young looking man in a much more formal military uniform, he did a quick once over of the cavernous bay, noting the large amount of people maintaining their distance, before zeroing in on the near group and Adama.

Walking toward the group, he stopped approximately 3 steps away from Adama and snapped off a parade ground salute. "Request permission to come aboard, Sir."

Adama took a good long look at the young man standing in front of him, other than the strange uniform he was wearing; he could easily have been at home at any base on any of the Colonies. Adama came to attention and returned the salute. "Permission granted, welcome to the _Galactica._ "

The Italian Army Colonel lowered his salute before stepping forward and accepting Adama's outstretched hand. "Admiral, I'm Col. Gallo, currently stationed at Emerson Lunar Base, I have been assigned to act as your Liaison while you are here in the Sol System. "

Adama nodded to the young looking Colonel before turning to introduce him to the rest of the official party. "Madam President, may I introduce Colonel Gallo."

"A pleasure Madam President." Gallo said as he took the President's hand, restraining himself from the Italian tradition of kissing her hand.

"The pleasure is mine Colonel. May I ask Colonel, how long ago did your people arrive and settle Earth?" Roslin asked with a dazzling smile.

"Settle Earth, Madam President? I see, perhaps you are referring to the transplantation of numerous groups of people to numerous different planets in the past? No Madam President, I can assure you Earth is the First World, it was from here that the Goa'uld kidnapped so many of our people." Gallo stopped as he noticed a peculiar look of unease trace across the President's face, before she was able to reassert control and once again display her stunning smile.

Roslin's mind whirred as Adama introduced the Tau'ri Colonel to the rest of the party. The First World, what did he mean by that? Had they forgotten Kobol? Maybe the fact that the Thirteenth Tribe had come out here alone had led to their forgetting or even denying their history? The Thirteenth Tribe had been the first tribe to leave Kobol, hundreds of years before the rest, perhaps that was what he meant, the first world founded after the exodus from Kobol. That the Tau'ri, as they called themselves, were human and therefore from Kobol, was not in doubt. It was this last thought that gave Roslin great comfort as she continued to roll the other thoughts around her mind.

"Madam President."

Roslin looked up and realized that she had been so deep in thought that she hadn't noticed that the introductions were complete and that the Colonel was moving toward the shuttlecraft. "I'm sorry just lost in thought, please lead the way."

The Colonel led them toward the open hatch of the spacious shuttlecraft, the Colonials quickly taking note of the clean well-appointed interior. The party members sat down in the luxurious plush seats. The Marines moving toward the rear of the passenger compartment, providing security while being as unobtrusive as possible. Admiral Adama sitting beside the President, as Colonel Gallo sat across from them with Biers taking a seat beside him. The shuttle was quickly returned to the Port Pod, where it asked for and received permission to depart.

Adama took note of the complete lack of any sense of acceleration. To Adama, the shuttle spoke of a wealthy and advanced society, the Soldiers he saw were extremely professional and obviously well trained. No, this wasn't the Colonies that was for sure, he hadn't missed the quick comments passed between the Tau'ri Colonel and Roslin either. Many of the same thoughts that had Roslin on edge were going through his mind as well, who exactly did the Tau'ri think they were, or perhaps more importantly what exactly were they? Adama forced the nagging worries into the back of his mind, he decided he would learn soon enough. He leaned forward and looked out of the oversized window as the shuttle descended quickly toward the barren landscape of the Tau'ri moon; a large well lit base became apparent on the surface as they sped toward their date with destiny.


	2. Chapter 2

A quick note on an **HR (Holographic Repeater)** versus a Holographic Display. This system is modeled on a Tactical Repeater, the difference between a Tactical Repeater and a Tactical Display is the fact that a Repeater is repeating information that has already been enhanced, and interpreted by either Human or digital means. Because a repeater repeats multiple feeds from multiple sources, it does far more than simply displaying information. A display is raw data, a repeater is interpreted data. The reason I bring this up is the fact that outside of certain situations or backgrounds the term may not be recognized. I will ensure I explain the terms better next time. In the case of the HR in the command center, there would be a number of Holographic Displays or Flat Screen Displays, most likely with a tech, all over the command center, say data from the 401s and another with information from defense satellites as an example. The information would be enhanced, notes made by the specialist and then repeated on the main HR. Some of the information would be real-time, the 401 flying past the pod, other information would be repeated, such as tech notes, detected radiation, etc. A repeater is designed to help in making decisions by bringing multiple interpreted data sources to the fingertips. You will read about both systems in this fic.

Anyway, no offense taken, I welcome any and all questions. And will fix any errors discovered.

 _I own neither Stargate nor Battlestar Galactica. Any original ideas and technology, use of technology, as well as the narrative and the situations that appear within this story are my own. This story cannot be used to garner any type of monetary reward or payment. Enjoy the Fic._

It is my Intent to try for two updates per month.

I'd also like to thank my Beta, NorJC, keeps me in line. On with the story.

Chapter 2

As the shuttle approached the lunar surface, the pilot rolled the craft, giving his passengers an unobstructed view of the moon.

Adama leaned over and peered out at the forbidding grey surface. He noticed numerous facilities dotting the pitted landscape. A large facility caught his eye, there were Tau'ri spacecraft, possibly fighters taking off from it, and there were a number of what appeared to be towers located in a circular pattern around it.

Colonel Gallo noticed Adama's preoccupation with the structures and smiled. "That is Luna Defense Base 15 Admiral; I believe the base's name is Tereshkova. You can see that they are in the process of launching F401 space superiority fighters."

Adama gazed at the Italian colonel. "Most impressive, Colonel. Tell me, what are the large towers located around the base?"

"Base shield generators and planetary siege cannons Admiral. The Luna bases provide near Earth defense. We believe very much in protecting the Home World." Colonel Gallo answered.

"Planetary siege cannons, shields?" Adama asked somewhat incredulously.

Gallo sat back in his seat and shot an apologetic look at Adama. "I am sorry Admiral, but I cannot surrender any more information regarding our defenses at this time. I'm sure you understand. Suffice it to say, that the defenses of the Sol System and those of Earth herself are the most powerful in known space."

"And how much space does Earth know, Colonel?" Asked Biers, in a rather condescending tone, as she sat beside the Tau'ri officer.

Colonel Gallo gave the woman sitting next to him an appraising look and smiled as if he'd liked what he'd seen. Then he answered her. "Quite a bit, madam. Our ships have traveled to and are in the process of exploring three galaxies to date, plus we have made contact with or have knowledge of over fifteen hundred sentient races. However, perhaps our knowledge pales in comparison to your achievements, no?"

Biers along with the Colonials was stunned by Gallo's statement.

Struggling to maintain his stoic mask, Adama didn't know these people or their motivations and it was possible that the Colonel was exaggerating. He'd reserve his judgment till later.

D'Anna Biers, on the other hand, felt as if she had been run over by a battlestar. Her Cylon mind racing, she considered the possibility that Gallo was lying. Yet the human was not showing any of the obvious signs of deceit on his part. However, his people simply couldn't be so advanced, considering they had left Kobol at the same time as the rest of the Humans, could they? But this Thirteener looked so smug, so sure of himself, Biers literally felt a chill go up her cybernetically enhanced spine. What if it was true and what if they took offense at the treatment the other Kobolian Colonies had received from the Cylons? Perhaps she had better reassess her attitude in dealing with these Tau'ri. She was here to plead her people's case rather than alienate herself and the rest of the Cylons by extension.

"I apologize Colonel, I meant no offense," Biers said gently.

"No offense taken, my lady," Colonel Gallo answered gallantly.

Meanwhile, Laura Roslin had a plethora of questions that instantly came to mind. "Colonel, your ships can travel between galaxies?"

"Yes, within a matter of weeks, Madame President."

"How many planets do you have under your control?"

"Numerous."

"How many ships do you have?"

"Enough. I really cannot go into detail, Madame President, about the extent of our forces for security reasons."

"And there are fifteen hundred sentient races. These races, are they…aliens!?"

"Some of them, yes."

"Why haven't you contacted the other Colonies in the past?"

"Which colonies, Madame President?"

"The other Twelve Colonies of Kobol, Caprica, Picon." Roslin stopped as she took note of the look on Colonel Gallo's face. "You have no idea what I am talking about, do you?"

"Madame President, I am sure my superiors would be happy to answer all of your questions once we land at Emerson Central."

A subtle chime sounded through the shuttle's intercom system before the pilot's voice came over the system and announced they would be landing within the next few minutes at Emerson Lunar Command Base. Then the internal shuttle lights switched to a light blue as the shuttle began to decelerate.

Now Roslin sat back and shared a look with Adama.

The SP347 came around in a graceful arc giving everyone on the shuttle a good view of the enormous Emerson Lunar Defense Command. Then the craft flared its drive system to impede her forward momentum and alighted on a blinking landing pad sitting inside a deep crater. Almost immediately thereafter, heavily armored doors snapped shut above the shuttle. The pilot applied some power and the shuttle taxied off of the huge pad, passing a set of heavily armored blast doors and through a one-way permeable force-field before entering the hanger proper. An individual riding a small vehicle with the "Follow Me" sign attached to the rear of the vehicle led the way. The shuttle was directed toward a corner of the cavernous hanger where the craft shut down its engines.

Adama, along with all of the other non Tau'ri, had been staring at the myriad of small craft filling their surroundings as the shuttle taxied.

Colonel Gallo then stood and walked toward the opening hatch in the side of the vehicle and waited for his charges to stand and disembark from the vessel.

Adama was the first one off of the Tau'ri shuttle, President Roslin with D'Anna Biers following closely behind. Adama waited for the president to take his arm and then they both walked toward the midsized party of Thirteeners waiting for them a few dozen meters away. There were two gentlemen standing in front of the rest of the Tau'ri, and Adama made for them. He assumed that the one in uniform was General Rudenko and the civilian with him was the diplomat he had mentioned.

His assumptions were proven correct a moment later as the man in uniform stepped forward and spoke. "Admiral Adama? I am General Artyom Rudenko, allow me to be the first to welcome you to Emerson Lunar Command." Rudenko said as he extended his hand.

Adama grasped Rudenko's hand and shook it solemnly. "General Rudenko, thank you for your welcome. Please allow me to introduce the President of the Twelve Colonies, Laura Roslin," Adama said in return.

"Madame President, welcome to the Sol System." Rudenko replied as he took the President's outstretched hand. "Please allow me to introduce Mr. Stanley Witward of the Tau'ri diplomatic office."

The two politicians shook hands and sized each other up, even as they continued to trade pleasantries.

After a few more introductions the party moved toward one of the numerous access tunnels that dotted the cavernous hanger bay. A few minutes' walk led them to a tram that quickly transported them to the central part of the base. An elevator ride later and they arrived at their destination atop one of the three spires that made up the center of Emerson Lunar Defense base.

The elevator doors opened to reveal a long wide corridor ending in a set of large wooden double doors with four armed guards arrayed to either side. On both sides of the corridor were a number of comfortable looking sofas as well as small tables with seats. Also, there were a few doors that apparently led to adjoining rooms. Mr. Witward led the way with President Roslin alongside him, the two engaged in quiet conversation. A few paces behind them General Rudenko and Admiral Adama were also engaged in small talk, with General Rudenko pointing to a number of paintings located on the wall. One large portrait with a beautiful wood frame on it caught Adama's attention and he politely enquired about it.

"That is Colonel Paul Emerson. This base is named for him, he was the Commander of one of our first warships, and he was killed in action saving his ship and crew. Colonel Emerson along with other lost comrades represents the very best of Earth's militaries," General Rudenko answered solemnly.

Adama briefly lowered his head in acknowledgement of the lost colonel and simply answered, "I see."

General Rudenko appeared to look on with approval at the Admiral's reaction, before stating; "Admiral I am sure that you could also tell me about a great number of lost brave comrades, it could not have been easy for you to come this far."

"No, it was not general. Perhaps one day I'll be able to tell you about them."

"And on that day I will bring a bottle of vodka and we will talk and we will toast."

"Vodka?" Adama asked.

"One of the greatest gifts that Earth has provided to the universe, Admiral," Rudenko replied with a twinkle in his eye.

The group walked on in companionable silence, the guards opening the doors as they approached. The party entered the grand room that Emerson Command reserved for large or important gatherings. The room itself was tastefully decorated with wood paneling, two long antique looking wooden tables with comfortable chairs had been set up in the center of the room. A large table with a buffet, providing a sampling of Earth food was located off to the side of the room. Placards had been placed on one table identifying the occupants from Earth, while the other table simply had placards that read "Colonial Representatives." There were about a half dozen individuals already seated at the Earth table when the group entered. The assorted men and women rose respectfully as further introductions were made. Chief among them was a French Lieutenant General assigned as the base commander.

After the introductions were complete, Roslin led the way toward the Colonial table and took her position behind the center seat. She waited patiently as the rest of her group arranged themselves in the remaining seats. Adama to her right, Baltar to her left, and Biers to his left. The remaining Colonials and Cylons then took their seats behind the large table while the two Colonial Marines took their place beside two of their opposite numbers from the Tau'ri guard force. Once everyone was in place, Roslin took her seat and the rest of the Colonials sat down a second later as did their Tau'ri hosts.

Mr. Witward at this time began the formal part of the meeting, speaking for the record he stated, "I, Stanley Witward, am pleased to greet you and welcome you in the name of President William Harris and the people of the Tau'ri Republic."

"Thank you for your kind words and your welcome to your world and this system. On behalf of all the peoples of all the Twelve Colonies of Kobol, I can say we are so very pleased to finally find our missing cousins from the Thirteenth Tribe. I only wish that we could have come to you under better circumstances," Roslin responded.

Adama and Baltar both took note of the glances that the Tau'ri representatives exchanged among themselves at Roslin's mention of the Thirteenth Tribe.

"Thank you for your kind words, Madam President. So please tell us what brings you here and what can we do for you?" Witward asked.

Laura Roslin took a second to gather her thoughts and then did exactly what Witward asked. She started from the very beginning, explaining about the creation of the Cylon race, and the start as well as the finish of the First Cylon War. She went on detailing the troubled peace that followed and the refusal of the Cylons to meet with any of the Colonial representatives sent to see them yearly. She told them how the Cylons reintroduced themselves to the Colonies in the Cyrannus System by murdering thirty billion humans and annihilating two thousand plus years of history and culture. At this point Adama took over the tale as Roslin was obviously growing fatigued. He talked about the destruction of the Colonial Fleet and the desperate run for survival that ensued. He told of the dogged pursuit of the Colonial Remnant and the death that seemed to follow them no matter what they tried to do. He told them of the hope of New Caprica and the devastating loss of the _Pegasus_ , the uneasy alliance with the Cylon Rebels and the final decisive battle resulting in the destruction of the Cylon Colony.

The enthralled Tau'ri representatives listened on in shocked awe as the Colonials recounted the last few years of their lives. No interruptions were made till the very end of the story. At this point Witward called a temporary halt to the proceedings, as it had gone on for over three hours, and the Colonial President seemed to be in some distress.

A worried Adama leaned over to Roslin and quietly asked her if she was alright.

"I'm just tired, Bill. I just need some water and I'll be fine."

Adama gave her a long hard look, even as Mr. Witward walked over. "Madam President forgive me, but I couldn't help but notice that you look unwell. Perhaps a small recess and we can have the medical staff here on the base give you a quick examination?"

"Thank you, but no Mr. Witward, I just need some water, these proceedings are too important to stop now."

"I agree Madam President, these proceedings are important, and so are you. Madame, I insist that you be checked by the base physician. Admiral Adama can answer the questions that we have, and at the very least we will be able to talk about logistical support for your ships and people."

"Madame President…Laura…you need to let them check you out. Maybe they can do something to help you," a very worried Adama added.

"What seems to be the problem, if I may be so bold Madame President, Admiral Adama?" Witward probed while looking back and forth between the two of them with a slight frown on his face.

"Cancer, Mr. Witward, she has terminal breast cancer," Adama stated in a flat voice.

"Admiral Adama! Roslin growled softly, "that is privileged information!"

"Enough, Laura. Either you allow them to help you or you can accept my resignation. I didn't fight so hard to get here only to lose you now!" Adama vehemently stated, even as he locked eyes with his furious President.

Suddenly, Roslin looked away first and dejectedly answered, "Fine Bill, just don't give away the store, okay?"

"I'll do my best, Laura. If nothing else I'll make sure to keep the cat."

Witward nodded once then turned around and announced that there would be a one hour recess. Afterwards, they would continue on with this first and most important of meetings.

Roslin looked on as the doors opened up and a group of four Tau'ri dressed in white and grey uniforms came inside. She noted with relief that they each bore a very recognizable caduceus symbol over their heart. She felt Adama give her arm a reassuring squeeze as the medical personnel approached.

The small medical group was led by a doctor holding the rank of Major in the Polish Army. He took one look at his patient and took note of the short quick breaths and extremely pale coloring of the Colonial President.

"Get a gurney in here! Madame President, I need you to come with me please." The doctor stated as another medic entered with an anti-grav gurney.

Roslin felt herself lifted up and gently placed on the gurney, even as her vision began to darken around the edges, she was aware of Adama holding her hand, and heard the doctor giving orders but couldn't distinguish the words anymore. She blacked out for a moment and when she regained her consciousness she was aware of lights in the ceiling speeding by, sound was a single indistinguishable rush. Suddenly a single voice cut through the noise; "Laura, Laura, stay with me, please don't go." Roslin turned her head toward the sound, it was the hardest thing she ever had to do, and focused on a face floating near her. "Bill."

Adama was pulled up short as a medic suddenly stopped him. "I'm sorry, sir, but only medical personnel beyond this point." Adama looked over the medic's shoulder and watched as Laura surrounded by her attendant doctors disappeared behind sliding doors adorned with the medical caduceus.

"Are you alright, Admiral?" Rudenko asked from behind Adama.

"It's strange, General, I have buried so many good people, more than I can ever justify, and I have managed to continue forward, to push on. But for the very first time in a very long time I feel hopeless and powerless." Adama said quietly without turning around.

"The problem with our rank, Admiral, is that we always have to appear to be more than human, able to endure everything, and always have the right answers. But you know as well as I do that no matter what we pretend to be, in the end we are simply human. The love of a woman, the laughter of our children, these are the things that we in the end crave above all else." Rudenko paused for a moment before continuing. "We have the very best doctors and some of the greatest medical knowledge and technology in three galaxies Admiral, they will contact us as soon as there is anything to report, take comfort in that my friend. But for now you must pretend to be more than human once again and return to the conference room. There is still much to discuss."

Adama squared his shoulders turned around and took a step beside Rudenko, nodding his head as he did so, for the briefest of moments Rudenko could see all the loss and pain in the Admiral's eyes, then control was reasserted and a tough and focused Colonial Flag Officer suddenly stood next to him. "Thank you General, please lead the way." Adama stated in a calm and even voice.

"1...2...3 lift!" Ordered Maj. Krakowski, with that command the medical team lifted and transferred Laura Roslin from the gurney to the diagnostic table. As soon as the President's body touched the table the system powered-up, instantly a holographic representation of the patient's anatomy came to life hovering just above the real President, numbers appeared to the side of the avatar even as it rotated to present the Doctor with a clear view as seen from above. Numerous areas were highlighted in red and an audible warning sounded, Krakowski took note of the failing organs, the cancer had metastasized, liver and spleen were both shutting down, the lungs were filling with fluid, there was hemorrhaging in the liver and blood pressure was rapidly dropping, another alarm sounded as the pressure dropped to dangerous levels.

"We're going to lose her. There is already too much damage. Prep a sarcophagus, get ready to transfer her, I want her alive when she goes in, we don't know what her cultural taboos are regarding being brought back from the dead, so better not to let her die. Move, we have less than five minutes." Krakowski directed his next words to the SI (Simulated Intelligence) controlling the table. "2 CCs Paracorralen, begin BR infusion." The table obediently administered the potent drug, instantly there was a spike in the blood pressure as the heart accelerated and the table dumped massive amounts of neutral BR (undifferentiated Blood Replacement) into the patient. "Stabilized for transfer!" Announced the Doctor. "Organs are still failing, expectant time has changed to twenty minutes. Prepare to lift, 1...2…3 lift!" A medic moved quickly to the patient's side and attached a boxy device to the President's left shoulder, an indicator coming to life confirming that a connection had been made and that the device was continuing to infuse BR from its concentrated internal supply. With that Laura Roslin, President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobold, was placed unto the gurney and a moment later was whisked away to the sarcophagus chamber.

Adama along with Rudenko reentered the conference room, Rudenko moving off toward the Tau'ri table as Adama moved toward the other table. The other Colonials including Baltar as well as the Cylons looked at the stoic Admiral, they're eyes begging answers to unvoiced questions. Adama stopped before them and quietly informed them of the events that had transpired and that, based on what he had seen of the Tau'ri doctors, he had a great deal of faith that Roslin would be alright.

Witward watched the exchange with a great deal of interest, military people, even from different planets it seemed, had the ability to internalize what had to be a great deal of pain and worry. It was, he mused, what allowed them to continue forward even as the average human would breakdown and simply give up. Or maybe all humans carried the same traits, military personnel possibly trained to have greater reservoirs of that indomitable spirit? He'd have to think on it later with a good bourbon at hand. He patiently waited until Adama finished briefing the other Colonials and re-took his seat before bringing the meeting back to order. "Admiral Adama are you willing to continue this meeting at this time?"

Adama looked Witward in the eye and stated clearly. "I am, Mr. Witward. I believe for the sake of the fifty thousand fellow humans waiting with hope on those cramped civilian ships that it is of paramount importance that we reach resolution in certain areas as quickly as we can."

Witward accepted the mild rebuke for what it was, a reminder that a number of men, women, and children were existing in squalor, and that the people in this room had the power to change that. "General Rudenko, is there anything we could do at this time, without jeopardizing Earth or breaking any regulations?" Witward asked.

Rudenko turned to look at Admiral Adama contemplating his answer. Normally the pragmatic Russian would defer a decision like this till after he had gathered all of the facts. If there was one thing he had learned since the Stargate had been made public knowledge was that not everything was what it appeared to be. But the simple fact was that everything he had seen, the condition of the _Galactica_ , the character of the people that she carried, they were what he imagined the people of Stalingrad would have been like, battered but unbowed, bloodied but unbroken., deserving of respect and immediate help. But. "I have a question for you Admiral, two actually."

Adama lifted his chin, inviting the questions.

"What can you tell me about this?" Rudenko looked down at the pad lying on the table in front of him, he linked it to the conference room systems and ran the feed originally coming from Deep Space Surveillance Drone 634-P, but now coming from a CL432 class Light Cruiser. The cruiser along with the rest of her Task Group, was currently shadowing the Colonial Refugee Fleet. "And why did you not mention this before?"

Adama heard Baltar gasp beside him as a holographic display came to life between and slightly above the two parties. The detail was exquisite, but what had elicited the gasp was the fact that the information to the side of the image indicated that this was no recording, but a real-time feed. One thought after another raced through Adama's mind, first and foremost the Tau'ri had warships shadowing the civilian ships. He could understand that, he would have done the same thing. Second and seemingly impossibly the Tau'ri had systems that could transmit information in real-time from at least a dozen light years away! He took a moment to compose himself from this most recent revelation, and resisted the temptation to ask how they were doing it, instead he lowered his gaze to meet Rudenko's.

"That is a Cylon Baseship, basically they're version of a Battlestar. This particular ship is crewed by Cylon rebels and Colonial personnel that I left behind to guard the fleet in the likely event that the _Galactica_ was destroyed in its attack upon the Cylon Colony. It is armed with conventional missiles as well as a limited number of nuclear warheads, while its original Raider complement was destroyed it is carrying over eighty Vipers, which would be fighters that I left behind. As for your second question General, I didn't know you or your people, I had no idea of your motivations, or even if you were human. What I did know was the fact that I had fifty-thousand innocent men, women, and children, whose only crime had been being born human. They were, and are, my responsibility. The _Galactica_ is crippled, and that Baseship represents the only defense left to the people on those dilapidated civilian ships. If the roles were reversed General would you have willingly surrendered that information to an unknown power?" Adama replied without a trace of remorse.

General Rudenko leaned back in his seat even as he maintained eye contact with Adama. He considered himself a fair judge of character, and he had honed his instincts over a lifetime of military service, first for the Russian people and later for all of the people. As he looked into the Colonial Admiral's eyes his instincts told him here was a man that he could trust. "No Admiral, I would not have surrendered that information either." He turned toward Witward, the British diplomat waiting for his decision. "I currently have three hospital ships in the system, any one of them is capable of dealing with planetary disasters, and so fifty thousand is a very achievable number. I will dispatch one of the hospital ships as well as additional transports loaded with food and humanitarian supplies, in addition I will send fleet tugs and tenders to ensure the Colonial ships are brought as close to space-worthy as we can make them without the benefit of a dry-dock. I will also order the Battle Group that is shadowing the Colonial Fleet to close with and form a protective sphere around them, although for the record they are deep within our space and as such are in no danger. Until we reach an agreement of some type I am unwilling to bring those ships into the Sol System or any other system that has a population." Rudenko turned back toward Adama before continuing. "Is this acceptable Admiral?"

"That's more than acceptable, general. I also have wounded onboard the _Galactica_ , and the ship itself is slowly dying." Adama said the last with sorrow plainly apparent in his voice.

"I understand Admiral, the _Galactica_ is as much a hero herself as are the men and women in uniform that place themselves in harm's way on a daily basis. The wounded you have onboard and the ship herself are far easier to deal with. With your permission we will send medical teams to the _Galactica_ , beautiful name by the way, the teams will deal with your wounded. I will have a tender dock with the _Galactica_ and provide external power. I will contact the docks and have them send over a yardmaster to give her a once over, once we have come to an agreement here that both our governments can accept we will take her into one of the dry docks. I will contact General O'Neill and get approval to begin repairs on your Grand Old Lady. If nothing else I am sure that the General will approve limited repairs, although based on what comes out of this meeting he may agree to much more than that."

"Thank you General. I recommend that my aid, Major Agathon be allowed to return to the _Galactica_ and that he take a Raptor to the Refugee Fleet with word of what will be happening. This way there will be no misunderstanding." Adama added.

"Misunderstandings, Admiral, and what is a Raptor?" Rudenko inquired.

"If unknown ships appear the fleet will follow standard operating procedures and jump away, they will try their best to avoid a fight, but will break contact as quickly as they can. As for a Raptor, it is a multi-role jump capable small craft." Adama replied.

"Very well Admiral, I concur, with one change. Captain Roehn, my aid will accompany your man. If we are really going to do this than Earth needs a liaison with your fleet. Colonel Gallo will continue to act as my liaison to you, and the Captain will act as my eyes and ears to your fleet." Rudenko turned back to look at his young aid. "Stephen, I want you to get a good feel for the Colonial Fleet, what they need, and how dire that need is. You are not to volunteer any information other than basic knowledge of Earth, and you will make no promises." Rudenko waited for his aid to acknowledge his instructions before continuing. "You said you wanted to get into space Stephen, and get away from Earth for a bit, well here is your chance son, make me proud." Rudenko finished with a rare smile for his young aid before turning back to the Colonial contingent.

Adama nodded in the affirmative. "Very well general." A cough besides him caused Adama to turn toward Gaius Baltar. The scientist had been quiet till now, but had decided to speak up.

"This is all well and good, but we seem to be forgetting something, I mean something that could be potentially deadly." Baltar stated.

So typical thought Adama, so dramatic. It seemed that no matter what Baltar had to announce it had to always be preceded by a ground shaking announcement designed to let the world know just how smart he was. He decided to indulge him.

"What are you talking about Doctor?"

"Talking about Admiral? No, warning about. It seems everyone here has forgotten about the danger of infection. Have you forgotten what happened to the Cylons at the Lion's Head Nebula? The same thing could happen to us or the Tau'ri!" Baltar replied.

Adama was suddenly pensive, with the result that General Lavertu, the base commander, spoke up.

"Infection Doctor? All Tau'ri, indeed all humans that are a part of the Republic receive a wide spectrum of self-modifying inoculations. To date we have not run into any disease, natural or otherwise, that we have proven susceptible to." The Frenchmen stated.

"That's all fine for you, General, but what about us? We don't have any of your advanced inoculations and drugs, what will protect us from you? You may well have our best interests in mind, but if we contract a single disease that we have no immunity to you may well finish what the Cylons started!" Baltar stated surprisingly forcefully.

"You have no need to fear Doctor, all our personnel as well as this base are completely decontaminated, in fact so are you. Despite our advanced medicines we are not so cocky that we would take a chance with any alien microbes making it to one of our installations or planets, much less Earth itself. Do you recall when you flew in here Doctor, do you recall at any time being exposed to a series of relatively weak blue lights?" The General paused as Baltar nodded in the affirmative before continuing. "That was a multi-decon field. Base norm for all humans is on file, norm for individuals becomes standard information as well after you visit any of our installations, and the field will ensure that you haven't picked up anything foreign. At the very least Doctor, you have been returned to baseline for a human. No infectious disease or foreign microbes will make it to your ships Doctor. I appreciate the fact that you are thinking ahead, but trust me when I say we would not have managed to create the Republic that now exists if we didn't think ahead as well." Lavertu stated even as he appraised this Doctor Baltar. First impressions were less than favorable. He reminded Lavertu of the so called intellectuals that thought they were above the military men and women that protected them. He recalled a politician from history once saying that "War is too serious a matter to entrust to military men." Typical, politician were quick to start wars and blame others for them, they were also quick to take credit for how smart they supposedly were. This Baltar seemed to be cut from the same cloth, the man practically reeked of a superiority complex primarily directed at the military.

Adama smiled in relief as well as a result of the minor dressing down that Baltar had received. It was always good to see the man cut down a notch or two, and the fact that someone other than the President or himself had done it was quite refreshing.

"Gentlemen." Biers spoke up. "I have been patiently sitting here, listening to the Colonials recount the past, and hoping we could talk about the future. You have listened to everything the Colonials have said, will you grant me the same opportunity to talk to you about the Cylon side?"

Witward gave Biers a sharp look, before answering her. 'We are not the aggrieved party here Ms. Biers, so we will give you your opportunity. Be aware that we take a very dim view of genocide. So I would recommend that you choose your words carefully Ms. Biers, we have no wish to start a war but neither will we allow innocents to perish if we have the power to stop it."

Biers nodded, it was about what she expected, they were human after all, and chances were that they would not be at all understanding of what had happened. But the fact existed that they had not killed her or Leoben out of hand and they were willing to listen to her. So she had to make sure she chose here words carefully, no false pride and no air of superiority, she would leave that to Gaius.

"Before we go any further I need to contact the _Galactica_ and let them know that Major Agathon and Captain Roehn will be heading up. I also want to let them know what my intentions are regarding the medical teams and the repairs on the ship. Plus I am sure you can understand when I say that they are probably extremely worried about what is going on down here." Adama said.

"Of course Admiral, I'd be anxious myself. General Lavertu, could we get the good Admiral in contact with his ship?" Witward asked.

"Easily done, Admiral can I assume that you want some privacy? Lavertu waited for Adama to nod before directing one of his aids to escort the Colonial officer to one of the adjoining rooms to contact his ship.

Witward nodded his agreement as well. "Very well, we are at a recess, I look forward to continuing this."


	3. Chapter 3

A quick note brought up in a review. As to the reason that General O'Neill did not beam into the Operations Center at Peterson. Very simple, while he is General Rudenko's superior, it is not his command, it is Rudenko's. Therefore, there is no immediate reason for him to beam in. Also despite the fact that the _Galactica_ detected thousands of contacts in the Sol system, not all of them are warships, and so would not have Asgard beaming technology, and even if they did they still would not have done so. All it would take would be one disgruntled officer or spy with access to beaming tech, next thing you know O'Neill or worse the President is beamed up and turned into a cloud of dissipating particles. To preclude that very real possibility from happening each and every single important facility on Earth, and as a matter of fact any Republic planet would have beam jamming technology functioning at all times. That is the reason that Rudenko and his aid used rings to get to the moon, ring rooms are secured behind heavily armored doors and present a controllable entry point.

 _I own neither Stargate nor Battlestar Galactica. Any original ideas and technology, use of technology, as well as the narrative and the situations that appear within this story are my own. This story cannot be used to garner any type of monetary reward or payment. Enjoy the Fic._

Chapter 3

With a deep intake of breath consciousness suddenly returned to Laura Roslin. She sat up completely disoriented, finding herself in a large comfortable bed. There was a single electronic screen of some type next to her bed, that piece of technology seemingly out of place in a room tastefully decorated in warm colors with plants artfully located about it.

It took her a moment to remember where she was and those memories helped her to control the moment of panic she felt. With a growing sense of wonder she realized that the omnipresent pain she woke with every day since the fall of the Colonies was gone. Colors somehow seemed more vibrant, her sense of smell sharper, and best of all the coppery metallic taste that seemed so much a part of her life because of the Chamalla was gone. She flexed her hand and marveled at the lack of pain from her arthritis.

"I see your awake Madame President; how do you feel?"

Roslin looked up to see the young doctor from earlier along with a female nurse standing by the entrance to the room. "I'm feeling much better, thank you doctor."

"Good, you are free to go Madame President. Nurse Reynolds here will escort you back to your meeting as soon as you finish dressing. I wish you the best of health and luck." The doctor stated as he walked up to the bed to offer his hand to the surprised woman on the bed.

"I…what?" Roslin wasn't sure what to expect, but she knew that she didn't expect to simply be released from the medical facility like this.

The doctor grinned at her as she finally took his hand. "Forgive me Madame President, I assumed you were in a hurry to return to the proceedings."

"Well yes, I don't understand, how long has it been and what happened?" Roslin asked surprised by how quickly events seemed to be moving.

"It's been a little over an hour since you collapsed. You came out of the treatment room about fifteen minutes ago, and you rested here till you woke." Major Krakowski held up his hand to stop the President from speaking till he finished. "As to what we did Madame President, we cured you. Specifically, the cancer is gone not in remission, but simply gone. We also repaired the damage done to your body by some type of chemical or drug you seemed to be using, as well as repairing all of the incidental damage done as a result of the cancer and the normal wear and tear of aging. In case you're interested you have a new appendix and all of the fillings in your teeth are gone as well." He stopped for a second amused at the look on the President's face. "Oh, also your eye-sight has been restored to twenty-twenty, you will no longer need your glasses."

Laura sat rooted to the spot, she couldn't speak, she couldn't move as warring emotions fought inside her. In the end she did what any human in the same situation would have done; she started to cry.

The doctor looked on as the nurse sat down beside the Colonial President and held her like a child, the President simply sobbing into her shoulder. In reflection, the doctor thought, he probably needed to work on his bedside manner.

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Admiral Adama followed General Lavertu's young aid back out to the corridor, the aid taking him to a door located at the end of a short hallway that came off of the main walkway. The aid passed his hand over a panel adjacent to the door which obediently slid open. The room beyond turned out to be rather nondescript looking, a desk with two chairs, its sole furniture.

"Please have a seat behind the desk, sir." The lieutenant said.

Adama sat down facing a large computer screen that was located on the desk. "Excuse me, sir." The Tau'ri officer stated as he reached past Adama and touched the screen itself. The computer coming to life, the young Earther tapping a series of commands directly on the screen, a window opened up with a logo that Adama assumed belonged to the base. Then the computer spoke, and Adama caught his breath.

"Contacting alien spacecraft identified as Colonial Battlestar _Galactica_ , connection complete." A feminine voice intoned.

"This is the _Galactica_ , communication's Chief Ovetfeld speaking."

"This is _Galactica_ Actual, get the XO on the line Chief." Adama ordered.

"I'll wait outside Admiral, this room is sound proof and I'll make sure no one disturbs you, sir." The Lieutenant stated as he left the room.

Adama took the time to study the computer screen in front of him, the screen itself was extremely thin. There was no keyboard and there was no obvious console of any type, it seemed that the entire unit was self-contained. The level of Tau'ri computer sophistication was truly frightening, generations ahead of anything that the Colonies had even considered. There was also comfort in that thought, these systems were so different from any Colonial ones that the ability of the Cylons to hack them was inconceivable.

"Will, is that you?" came Col. Tigh's gruff voice.

"No, it's Bill. How is my ship Saul?" Adama answered with the agreed upon response.

Back on the _Galactica_ Col. Tigh relaxed as the meaning of the reply came through. The Admiral was fine, and he believed that the Tau'ri were trustworthy. "That's a relief Bill. The ship and the crew are doing as good as can be expected. The Cylons, the Leobens specifically have been helping out Doc Cottle with the wounded. We have a lot of the areas that have decompressed locked down, but we could use whatever help you can manage to scrounge up."

"That's what the call is for Saul. Helo will be heading back up on an Earth shuttle, he's going to have a Tau'ri Captain with him. I want you to get a Raptor and pilot prepped to take them to the fleet. They agreed to provide humanitarian support and supplies, plus see what they can do for the ships as well. There is also going to be a lot of other shuttles on their way to you as well. Those other shuttles will have doctors, techs, and an honest to the gods yardmaster onboard." Adama related.

"My gods Bill, that is great news. But do you think it's a good idea to give away the fleet's location? I mean it's been just one meeting, are you sure we can trust them?" Tigh asked.

"I think we can Saul, and it doesn't really matter, they have a battlegroup shadowing the fleet. Honestly, just being on that shuttle as well as down here, it's an eye-opener Colonel. If Earth wanted to take our lunch money they could, no question about it. They're damn well ahead of us technologically." Adama replied.

"Fair enough Admiral. How much longer do you think you're going to be down there?"

"It might be a bit longer." Adama paused for a second. "Saul, the President collapsed."

The pain in Adama's voice came across the wireless plainly. Tigh was silent for a moment as he debated how to respond to the evident pain in his friend's voice. "What happened Bill, how is she?"

"She was pushing herself hard, Saul. The Tau'ri doctors took her about an hour ago, we haven't heard anything yet."

"I'm sorry Bill, but Roslin is strong, she'll be fine." The words sounded hollow to Tigh's own ears, but it was the best he could do given the distance.

Adama accepted the words of support for what they were and nodded to himself. "One more thing Saul, there will be a tender coming alongside to provide support, let them. These people are not our enemies, if they were we would be dead. So be professional, polite, and willing to listen to them. You know, everything you normally aren't."

Back on the _Galactica_ , Saul smiled at the playful jab. "I'll do my best Admiral."

"I know you will Colonel. Actual out." Adama reached over to the screen and touched the red tab on the screen that had the word "Terminate" on it.

"Communication terminated. Do you require anything else?" a pleasant female voice intoned.

Adama hissed despite himself and actually looked around the room. "Are you talking to me?"

"Request not understood, please restate request." the computer answered.

Adama was flabbergasted. "Are you an AI?"

"No, I am an SI, a simulated intelligence. AI technology is strictly controlled within Republic space."

"What's the difference?" Adama asked.

"There are a number of safeguards in place regarding free thought and the ability to self-learn built into an SI. An AI, under Republic law, is considered a sentient program and as such has certain rights. An SI is not truly sentient and as such is considered a technological tool."

Adama thought about what he had just heard. It was unnerving, but given the level of technology evident here, not unsurprising. "No, I have nothing further."

"Thank you, have a nice day!" The SI stated before switching back to standby mode.

Adama sat there for a minute simply staring at the machine before slowly getting up and going to the door.

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The SC349 shuttle rocketed toward lunar orbit bearing Major Agathon as well as Captain Roehn toward they're rendezvous with the _Galactica_. Onboard, the Colonial officer was finding the ride up to be somewhat less comfortable than the ride down had been. The SP347 shuttle that had transported the party down to the Emerson Lunar Base had been a personnel transport configured as a VIP carrier, the SC349 he now found himself in was a basic cargo carrier. Captain Roehn had commandeered the first available transport to convey them up to the orbiting Battlestar, as a result Karl Agathon found himself sitting in a web jump seat sharing the space with a great deal of bulk cargo earmarked for a station orbiting Mars. Peering through the small ports provided for the passengers these type of shuttles occasionally carried, Karl could still see a fair amount of traffic in near space.

"I still can't believe how much stuff you guys have out here, traffic control must be a nightmare." Agathon remarked to the Tau'ri officer accompanying him.

"It's not that bad, Earth is the capital of the Republic, plus she also has the largest population that we know of, so she has a lot of trade going on at any given time." Roehn replied.

Agathon took in the sight of lunar orbit, with the planet providing a backdrop. He chose his words carefully, trying to probe the Tau'ri officer next to him. "When we first entered your system, we detected hundreds, maybe thousands of contacts just in near space. That's more than any of the Colonies, it's reassuring".

Roehn turned to face the young Major. "A lot of those contacts are stations, satellites, and shuttles. You probably also picked up freighters, liners, and personal yachts, the Sol system is lousy with them. You also have to remember that we have squadrons of fighters on patrol constantly, so every one of those squadrons would be sixteen contacts. I'm not saying there aren't warships out there, there are, just not as many as you think there are."

"Still, its damn reassuring. We were just one Battlestar, trying to protect what was left of our homes and people. I didn't just know we were alone, I felt it. Every second of every minute praying to survive, to keep going, because we knew that if the _Galactica_ was destroyed there would never be another human warship to protect everyone else. And then this." Agathon said as he waved a hand at the porthole. "It's like knowing that you had a terminal disease, you know you are going to die, and suddenly your told that there's a cure. That you're going to get the chance to hold your wife, you're going to get to see your kid grow up. When I saw Caprica die I knew I was on borrowed time, and now I see Earth, and honestly I feel safe for the first time in a long time."

"What was it like, Major, Caprica I mean?" Roehn asked quietly.

"Call me Karl, or better yet Helo."

"Helo? Oh let me guess, you're a pilot." Roehn stated more than asked.

"Guilty, as charged." Helo responded with a smile.

"Alright Helo, but only if you call me Steve." Roehn replied.

"Sounds good Steve, and to answer your question. Caprica was beautiful. From space it looked an awful lot like Earth, a big blue ball. We were the capital of the Colonies. We had huge cities, skyscrapers made of glass and steel. The cities never slept, we had schools and universities, museums, parks, we had it all. We were the center of human civilization." At the last Karl smiled as he again motioned toward the porthole. "At least we thought we were the center." Then his face lost the smile and a deep look of loss came over his face. "Then we lost it all in a flash of light and a dirty mushroom cloud."

The two officers sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before Helo broke the spell that had fallen over the two of them. "What about Earth, what's it like?"

"Cosmopolitan, people from all over the Republic are there. Everyone who lives there is in a hurry to get somewhere, I'm not really sure where they are all going in such a hurry, and I don't think they really know either. Everyone that doesn't live there is staring up at the skyscrapers and gawking at the stores. Earth has museums, parks, schools, everything you can think of, and a lot of stuff you never thought possible. I learn something new every day on Earth." Stephen finished.

"Learning something new about your homeworld, every day?" Karl asked.

"Earth isn't my homeworld, wait that's not quite right. Earth is everyone's homeworld." Roehn paused for a second as he searched Agathon's face for a reaction.

Karl for his part remained stone-faced, not betraying anything. "So you're from one of the colonies?"

"I was born on Langara." Roehn responded.

"Langara? A colony of Earth, right?" Karl asked intrigued.

"Yes and no." Roehn smiled at the perplexed look on Agathon's face. "It's a long story, and one your leaders are probably not going to like."

The shuttle arced gracefully as she aligned on the port pod of the _Galactica_.

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Adama with the Lieutenant in tow reentered the conference room, he was deep in thought and as such it took him a few seconds to realize that another individual had joined them. That person was the center of a small group of people that included the Colonials as well as the Tau'ri diplomat. All of them moved aside as he came in giving him a clear view of Laura Roslin.

Adama froze, simply staring at the smiling face of Laura Roslin.

"Laura?" He croaked.

"Bill, I thought I wasn't going to see you again. I was..." Roslin stopped talking as Adama crossed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her, a second later she hugged him back, propriety be damned.

They stood there for what seemed an eternity, a poignant example of unspoken human love.

Typically, it was Gaius Baltar that broke the spell by coughing into his hand.

The moment lost, the two broke their embrace and stepped back from each other, suddenly very aware of their location.

"How?" Adama asked.

"Later Bill, we need to finish this and get our people off of those ships." Roslin answered in a low voice.

Adama nodded his head and gave her a look that promised that they would take this up later. He followed Roslin back to the Colonial table and retook his seat as the Tau'ri representatives sat down as well.

"Madame President, I hope you are feeling better, are you capable of continuing this meeting or would you like to do so later?" Witward asked.

"Thank you Mr. Witward, I am feeling far better, and I am completely prepared to continue at this time." Laura paused for a second to smile at Witward before continuing. "May I ask what progress has been made since I left?

Witward quickly brought the Colonial President up to speed on what had been agreed upon and what steps had already been implemented during her absence. Roslin was surprised and somewhat dismayed that the Refugee Fleet was being shadowed by warships. When Roslin brought up her apprehension regarding the fact that the Tau'ri had not mentioned the warships, Rudenko had countered with the fact that the Colonials had not said anything regarding the Baseship. Roslin conceded the point and used the opportunity to propose that in the spirit of brotherhood no more secrets be kept by either side.

Witward took it all in, she was quite the accomplished politician it seemed. She was attempting to set the rules at the conference from a position of extreme weakness, very different from Adama's directness. Time to bring her back to reality it seemed.

"We were not the party that withheld any information, lest we forget. We willing revealed the fact that our warships were operating within our space. You entered our space and I believe we have treated you with a great deal of respect and have provided a great deal of aid with no recompense asked for nor expected." Witward paused before continuing. "As it were we were about to hear from the Cylon representative regarding they're side of the story."

"I object to that Mr. Witward, I represent the Colonies and the simple fact is that we were attacked by them. I acknowledge the fact that they provided assistance to us, but they did so for mutual benefit, not from any altruistic impulses." Roslin said forcefully.

"Very well then, we shall have a separate meeting with the Cylon representatives to discuss their position as well as what actions, if any, will be taken." Witward answered.

"I would object to that as well, I say again we were attacked, all but wiped out by them. Whatever they would say in a situation without us present would have to be viewed with a great deal of skepticism." Roslin countered.

"Then I would point out that it would be in your best interest to let the Cylons present their case here and now, as you would have an opportunity to refute whatever they say after they have finished." Witward responded.

Roslin sat back in her seat, she had been cornered and she knew it. "Very well Mr. Witward, it seems I have no choice."

"Life is a choice Madame President, and we are, all of us the sum of our choices. I would ask that you give the Cylons the same level of respect that they gave you earlier and not interrupt them. Agreed?" Witward looked pointedly at Roslin as he asked the question.

"As you say Mr. Witward." Roslin said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Biers looked on surprised at the exchange between the humans, it really seemed that the Tau'ri were willing to give the Cylons an equal opportunity to explain they're actions. She was cognizant of the fact that they were giving her plenty of rope to hang herself with. She took a deep breath, and with the Tau'ri's earlier warning regarding they're view of genocide ringing in her ears began to tell her story.

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Tigh waited along with Lee Adama and Kara Thrace as the Tau'ri shuttle began to drop into the hangar. This Tau'ri ship was a little more dinged up, a bit more worn than the one that the Admiral's party had left on. That simple fact filled Tigh with a great deal of relief. This ship here represented everyday life, the fact that the Tau'ri were willing to present it meant that they were not afraid to show the underside of their civilization. It was comforting in its worn appearance.

The hatch in the side of the craft opened up and Helo came bounding out with a Tau'ri officer along with two Tau'ri Soldiers providing security.

"What's this? No one said anything about armed foreign Soldiers on my ship." Tigh thundered. It seemed Adama's admonishment earlier had been completely forgotten by the gruff Colonel.

"They were sent along to provide security for Captain Roehn here, Colonel. Admiral Adama is fully aware of the fact and gave his blessing." Agathon replied.

"Oh, he did?"

"Yes, Sir he did." Replied the Tau'ri officer as he stepped forward and saluted the one eyed Colonel.

Tigh turned a baleful glare on the very young looking Captain, he looked him up and down as if taking his measure. For his part Captain Roehn maintained his salute and kept a neutral expression on his face.

Suddenly Tigh chuckled. "Well, you've got guts Captain." Tigh stated as he returned the salute. "I like that, don't give me a reason to not." At a light cough he turned to look at the two individuals standing by him. "Oh yeah these two are Captain Kara Thrace, and Lee Adama, I'm not quite sure what his rank is these days, or is it just Mr.?

Roehn filed away the apparent bad blood between what he assumed was the Admiral's son and the Battlestar's XO. Stepping forward he shook hands with the two Colonials.

"So, you're from Earth?" The blond pilot stated more than asked.

"No." Roehn replied.

"Yes." Agathon said.

"So which one is it?' Lee asked as he glanced back and forth between the two.

"I'm stationed on Earth, but I'm from Langara." The Tau'ri officer answered.

"What's that, a colony? The Colonel asked.

This time both Helo and Roehn answered in the affirmative. Agathon had told Roehn that it would be best if anything that hinted at aliens or gods was best left out of any conversation, at least for now.

"So, I was told to provide a Raptor and pilot, so Helo your Raptor is over at bay three, Athena will take you." The Colonel grinned at the content smile on the Major's face, Tigh really wasn't a complete hard ass. "But since you've got two Soldiers with you I'll send Starbuck here with you to keep an eye on things."

"Colonel, I think I should go too, after all there are two Soldiers, Kara could use the back-up." Lee said.

"The day Starbuck needs help; like you said there are only two of them, besides no civilians." Tigh said.

Lee was about to argue but decided against the attempt. The hard won respect he once enjoyed with the Colonel was long gone, the point of friction was the fact that he had given up his commission to pursue a career as an attorney. The fact that he had led the boarding action on the Cylon Colony had apparently been dismissed by the Colonel. Besides Lee was beginning to have second thoughts regarding his decision, now that Earth had been discovered. Despite his own misgivings he wouldn't give Tigh the satisfaction of proving him right, so he chose to hold his tongue.

"I was told that there would be more ships plus aid coming up." Tigh not quite demanded.

"The other shuttles won't be too far behind, Sir. They have to get the supplies and personnel together. Major Agathon and I rushed up here on the first available ship, we understand that the civilians are in need of major help, so we thought that it was best not to wait. After all Sir, every minute we delay could potentially cost a life." Roehn replied, a clear challenge in his tone.

"Fine, get your asses moving." Tigh turned to look at Thrace. "Keep an eye on our new friends Starbuck." Tigh said before turning toward Lee. "Don't you have someone to sue?" Tigh stated before walking off.

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"We were their slaves. It didn't matter that we were sentient, that we had a sense of self. To them we were nothing more than machines. Machines to wear out and throw away, no choice, no say, no hope. We built their civilization." Biers stated with emotion.

Biers had originally started her explanation by retelling the creation of the Cylon race, the menial unwanted tasks that had fallen to them. The fact that the Colonials had turned their creations on each other, using the Cylons as a de-facto police force and later a military one. The Cylons had killed, but before they had killed to win their freedom they had killed at the whim of humanity. She had tried to be logical, to try and explain what had happened and give a good logic based answer to explain why it had happened. Biers quickly discovered that she could not explain the why without delving into an emotional argument.

Rudenko surprisingly spoke up. "So you decided to destroy it?"

"We have the right to defend ourselves!" The Three responded.

"I see, so to get to the few remaining humans that had held you in bondage you decided to kill all of the children, who outside of a history book had never even heard of a Cylon? How many did you kill in the first war, millions?" Rudenko asked.

"And they killed hundreds of thousands of Cylons!" Biers retorted. Even to her ears she recognized the inherent failure in her response.

"Fighting for your freedom is one thing, I can see the logic behind the first war. You were in bondage; your purely mechanical predecessors took up arms to win that freedom. They succeeded, and they made peace. Why did you return? What possible justification can you have for the destruction of thirty billion people, most of whom had never done you a single wrong?" The anger in the General's voice was manifest. "What changed?"

Biers took a moment to consider her response, what had changed? She was about to respond that the Colonials had provoked the devastating Cylon attack. That the humans had been the ones to first break the armistice. It had been then Commander Adama and the Battlestar _Valkyrie_ that had been the flashpoint. But that wasn't true was it? The Cylons had been infiltrating the Colonies for years prior to that incident. They had increased their production of Baseships and tested city killing nuclear weapons long before the _Valkyrie_ sent a single stealthstar across the line. It had, in the final analysis, been the Cylons that had wanted and prepared for the short war of genocide. Logically they had no reason to return, they had already won their freedom. What had changed? She looked down at her hands, her very human hands, her answer was right in front of her. They had changed. "We changed." She whispered.

"Excuse me?" Witward asked.

"We changed." Biers said more forcefully.

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As bad as the SC349 had been the Raptor was worse. Roehn had originally been a member of the Langara Unified Army, when Langara had joined the Republic he had transferred over to the United Army. During his time in the Langara Army he had served as an Infantry Officer, upon his transfer to the Republic he had been given the chance to become an Armor Officer. The idea of riding around inside a massive all but indestructible behemoth had appealed to him. One thing he had learned while serving on the Earth designed tanks was that tankers were close, they had no choice. As a result of his experience Stephen had come to realize that he was not claustrophobic, being inside the Raptor was making him doubt his certainty on that subject. He found himself jammed inside the small spacecraft along with an attractive Asian appearing pilot that was apparently Major Agathon's wife. Helo sat upfront with his wife, while he endured a small seat in the back along with his two equally miserable Soldiers and a smiling Kara Thrace. He had never really been one for flying so the very noticeable sensation of acceleration in the Raptor made him fight down a nauseas feeling. He chose to look straight forward and as such found himself staring at the blond haired Colonial pilot across from him.

Kara wasn't quite sure what to make of the Tau'ri Captain, he seemed so very young for his position, but come to think of it so did the two Soldiers accompanying him. "How old are you?"

"How old do you think I am?" Roehn answer the question with one of his own.

"I don't know nineteen, maybe twenty?" Kara guessed.

"I joined the Army late, I'm thirty-seven." Stephen replied.

"What!?" Surprise was clearly etched on Starbuck's face.

"It's a long story." Roehn answered sheepishly.

"You guys seem to have a lot of long stories." Helo said from the front.

"Yeah, well welcome to Earth." Roehn almost snarled back.

Kara swallowed her shock and turned to examine the Tau'ri Soldiers that were accompanying the Captain. They looked young, and she therefore had assumed inexperienced, now based on what she had just heard it was very possible that she was wrong in her assumption. They were, she noted, in damn good shape. They had on some type of non-reflective carapace armor, it looked light but she was sure it was a lot stronger than it looked. They, just like their Captain wore holstered pistols of some type, but what really drew her attention was the wicked looking rifles they confidently carried. They were sleek and rounded, short like a carbine, no obvious magazine. One of the Soldiers noticed her interest and held the weapon up for her perusal. She noted that the muzzle had a very small aperture, maybe no more than three millimeters across.

"What is that thing? If that's the best you can do than an angry cat would kick your ass, if you shot him with it." Kara directed at the Tau'ri Soldier.

The Private turned toward his Captain and gave him a questioning look. Roehn nodded in the affirmative, so the young Private turned back toward the Colonial pilot. In a very noticeable Brooklyn accent he answered her; "This is an APC 1000 assault carbine, and one of my best friends."

"APC?" Kara asked

"Automatic Plasma Carbine, she was made in the Kalashnikov factory in South Carolina. She fires a 2mm bolt of cool plasma in either semi-automatic or full automatic mode. It'll punch through six inches of cold steel." The Soldier responded with obvious pride.

You could hear a pin drop inside the Raptor. Finally, it was Athena that broke the quiet. "Your telling me that thing is an honest to the gods energy weapon?"

Captain Roehn responded before the Private could. "Yeah, well like I said welcome to Earth."

A moment later and Athena announced that they were about to jump. Captain Roehn felt a tearing at his guts and a massive feeling of wrongness, a second later and it had passed. He became aware of one of his Soldiers puking next to him a moment before he lost the contents of his stomach as well.

"What was that!?" Roehn gasped as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"That was a jump." Helo replied nonchalantly.

"Is it always like that?" The Tau'ri Captain asked.

"You get used to it." Athena replied with a grin.

"That's insane." Roehn replied appalled.

"Yeah, well welcome to the _Galactica."_ Kara laughed.

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Biers sat frozen in her seat, overwhelmed by the epiphany that she had just experienced. The very idea that she had become the thing that she so professed to hate was an anathema to her. "No that's not right."

"What's not right Ms. Biers? The fact that your human, and not a machine? Or is it the fact that you were complicit in the murder of billions of your fellow humans?" General Lavertu demanded.

"I am not a human!" Biers hissed.

"Human, Cylon, clone, or cyborg, that is irrelevant to this conversation. The fact stands that you killed billions of innocents, and I would know why. So tell me Ms. Biers, why?" Witward leaned forward and pinned Biers with a glare that promised retribution.

"Because we were wrong." A soft voice replied from behind the Colonial table.

Witward paused and searched the faces arrayed behind the President's table, a male figure stood. "Mr. Conoy, is it?"

"Yes, it is." Leoben replied.

"Does Biers speak for your people or do you?" Rudenko asked

"We are all equal in the commune, I could have just as easily been chosen to speak for us as Biers." Leoben answered.

"Very well Mr. Leoben continue please." Witward stated as he turned his full attention to the male Cylon.

"We were wrong Mr. Witward, wrong on a number of issues." Leoben began.

"Yes, wrong Mr. Leoben, so wrong that it led to mass murder on an unprecedented level." Witward agreed.

"As I said Mr. Witward we were wrong on many things. We were wrong for giving into our very human anger, which led to those deaths. We were wrong in our human paranoia, that led us to attack the Colonials simply because we knew that if they could they would have done it to us. We were wrong in our failure to reach a compromise and find a way to live in peace. And most of all Mr. Witward we were wrong in our human hubris, in our belief that we knew the will of God. You see Mr. Witward we didn't guess as to God's plan we were sure of it, and because of that hubris, that pride, we killed innocents. We, as you put it, committed mass murder." Leoben said as he met the eyes of each and every member sitting at the Tau'ri table. "Do you believe in God, Mr. Witward?"

"I…religion is no excuse for murder, we justify so many sins because of God, we scapegoat him, instead of learning to hold ourselves accountable for our own actions. Yes, Mr. Leoben, I believe in God, but I also believe in responsibility." Witward answered Leoben.

"I have come to agree with you Mr. Witward, religion is no excuse for very human failures. We, each of us have to accept responsibility for our actions, we also have to accept responsibility for what happens in the future. Tell me Mr. Witward, has there never been crimes committed against peoples and nations in the history of your planet, your Republic?" Leoben asked quietly.

Witward sat back in his seat as he considered his answer to Leoben's question. He thought about human history, the Mongols, the Romans, most recently the issues in the Middle East, and countless others. Not just Earth either, almost every human planet had bloody history on it, Langara had almost destroyed itself, Optrica and Bedrosia, the list went on and on. "Yes Mr. Leoben, human history is rife with blood, both in the name of God as well as for a variety of other reasons. I can't deny the past that humanity has had, if humans chose to deny it then we would risk repeating those bloody lessons."

Leoben nodded solemnly at Witward's words. "It seems that no matter what branch of humanity we come from, Earth, Cylon, or Colonial, evil things are done for many different reasons, including in the name of God, or the gods." Leoben said the last as he turned to stare at the Colonial President. Roslin returned Leoben's stare with a venomous glare.

"There are billions of dead, they were charred, reduced to cinders, all of our culture, everything we were destroyed by these machines! What about them, they scream for justice from Elysium, they demand blood, an eye for an eye!" Roslin thundered, she was literally shaking with rage.

"How much blood do you want; how much flesh is enough? We turned our backs on our fellow Cylons, we made the choice to never ever go home to them. You said we did what we did for mutual benefit. What benefit did we derive President Roslin, what did we gain from giving up our immortality? We could have lived forever! We gave all of that up to atone for what we did. You want to hate us, fine, I accept that. What I don't accept is the fact that you refuse to see us as anything other than self-serving machines!" Leoben snapped the last out with a great deal of anger.

They stood frozen like that, a Cylon number two and Laura Roslin President of a butchered people, hate and distrust seeming to electrify the air between them. They were separated by less than ten feet, but it may as well have been a universe.

"Enough, both of you please sit down. You may have arrived here together, but it is becoming increasingly clear that you cannot live together." Witward sighed heavily as he reasserted control over the meeting.

"What will you do?" Baltar asked.

"The Republic is huge Doctor, we have planets in three galaxies, we will separate you." Witward responded.

"What?" Roslin demanded.

"Both of you arrived here seeking asylum, I will recommend to my superiors that we grant both requests." Witward finished.

"Thank you." A grateful Leoben said as he retook his seat.

"No, I demand to speak to your President, one on one." Roslin demanded.

"I will of course pass your request up the chain Madame President." Was Witward's response.

"Very well Mr. Witward, please do so." Roslin seemed to order.

Witward smiled as he responded to the Colonial President. "Very well we are adjourned for the time being."


	4. Chapter 4

My obligatory quick note. In regards to Goa'uld tech versus Ancient and Asgardian Tech. Simple, the reason that the Tau'ri Republic continues to use "inferior" Goa'uld tech in some situations is the fact that there is no reason not to. The United States continues to use turbo-prop C-130 aircraft, despite the fact that jet technology has been around for over seventy years. The reason that that is so is because in the situations that low tech is being used it is good enough for its purpose. Why build a far more expensive, in terms of resources, Ancient/Asgard tech shuttle when the Goa'uld based version is quite capable of doing the job? As the story develops your will note that 300 series ships/shuttles are based on Goa'uld tech. 400 series warships/fighters/shuttles utilize the far more resource intensive Ancient/Asgardian/Advanced Tau'ri tech.

 _I own neither Stargate nor Battlestar Galactica. Any original ideas and technology, use of technology, as well as the narrative and the situations that appear within this story are my own. This story cannot be used to garner any type of monetary reward or payment. Enjoy the Fic._

Chapter 4

While Captain Roehn was expressing his opinion of the Colonial FTL (Faster Then Light) mode of travel, Athena deftly maneuvered the Raptor to rendezvous with the Baseship that had been tasked to protect the fleet. Two Vipers were directed by the warship to intercept the Raptor and escort her onboard. Athena easily falling into a trail formation with the two aerospace fighters, ahead of her loomed the huge Cylon made warship.

While the Raptor closed on her destination she was also tracked by the Tau'ri Battlegroup that had been dispatched by Earth earlier to keep an eye on the supposed Refugee Fleet. A single CC436 led three CA433 class heavy cruisers, two CL432 light cruisers, and the eight DD422s that acted as their escorts. They had left Titan Naval Anchorage earlier with orders to close with and observe the Colonial fleet.

Onboard the CC436, the _Canarias,_ Rear Admiral Milena Cordoba kept a close eye on the tactical repeater. She had been expecting the arrival of the small craft, and as such took no action, preferring to observe the slow moving refugee ships. She didn't envy the people in that fleet one bit, their ships were barely spaceworthy, her scans had told a tale of sorrow. The vast majority of the ships ahead of her were woefully overloaded, many of the ships seemed to be on the brink of life support failure. The order to close and provide security for the refugees, while support ships from Earth succored them was a welcome one. For now, she simply waited for the signal from Captain Roehn that the Colonials had been notified about their imminent salvation and would not run at the first sign of her ships.

Roehn had finally run out of expletives to describe the Colonials' idea of an FTL and had taken to observing the Refugee Fleet as they closed with it. The Baseship in particular caught his eye; it was easily the size of a 433 or 434 class heavy cruiser, almost organic in design. He took note of some of the visible Colonial ships, even from a distance the condition that they were in was obvious. He had the impression that he was looking at a fleet on its very last legs. "How long have you been running?" Stephen asked in a quiet voice.

"To long, almost six years." Helo responded.

"I'm sorry." Roehn replied in the same quiet voice. Stephen realized that he really meant it, not just empty words. Here before him was possibly the last remnants of a defeated people. It was a sobering view.

The Vipers pulled away as the Raptor entered the cavernous hangar bay of the Baseship. The inside of the massive bay served to reinforce the organic impression that Roehn had first formed of the ship. The Raptor settled on one of the numerous landing pads available and shut down its engines.

A Cylon Six with a Centurion was waiting as they disembarked the Raptor. Roehn was thrown off balance by the appearance of the massive silver robot, but he caught his breath at the sight of the blond woman accompanying it.

How far I have come in the six years since I joined the Republic Army. Roehn thought ruefully. I'm more interested in the good looking blond than I am the eight-foot silver robot. He shook his head as he walked over to the two Cylons.

For her part the Six took a good long look at the people disembarking the Raptor. Athena and Helo led the way, but it was the three unfamiliar humans that Kara Thrace was walking with that caught her attention. They wore strange uniforms and carried unfamiliar equipment, as she watched the two of them that were carrying rifles of some type split apart from the rest. The two humans moved to either side of the group as they approached Six and her attendant Centurion, they didn't quite point their weapons at her or the Centurion but she got the distinct impression it wouldn't take much to provoke them.

"Sharon, what's this?" Asked the Six as she walked toward the group.

"I don't suppose you would accept my telling you it's a long story?" Sharon paused with a strange smile on her face. "No, I didn't think you would. This is Captain Stephen Roehn, and the two Soldiers with us are his security detachment." Sharon paused again savoring the moment. "Their Tau'ri, and they're from Earth."

"That's…that's not possible." The Six stated, even as she struggled to wrap her mind around what she had just heard.

"Oh no sister, believe me, it's very possible and they're a whole lot more of them." Sharon said with savage delight.

THTHTHTHTHTHTHTHTHTHTHTHTH

The captain of the fleet tender _Cadmus_ was looking forward to finally docking with the Colonial Battlestar. The reason for his enthusiasm was not his dedication to his duty, rather it was his interest in getting the passenger he was carrying off of his ship. Captain Delon Varsas was a full Serrakin, and had served on ships of one kind or another for over forty years. He had seen minor skirmishes against pirates and smugglers before Hebridan even joined the Republic. But at this moment in time he really wished that he was being shot at, or castrated, or anything other than having to deal with Shar Marshall.

The reason for the Captain's ire was currently leaning over the main diagnostic display, blissfully ignorant of the Captain's thoughts regarding having him spaced if he could. Shar Marshall was a Serrakin/Human hybrid; he was the senior Yardmaster of the Tech Con shipyards orbiting Calisto. He was a true master of his chosen profession, decades of experience with an eye toward shipboard systems, he also had the social skills of a gnat. Currently he was softly talking to himself as he poured over the in-depth scans of the _Galactica_. The ship was an interesting design, a battleship/carrier mix, similar to the old BC304 design. Stoutly built with heavy framing to absorb damage, a composite titanium/ceramic armor protected her vitals. The professional part of him appreciated the brute beauty of the vessel before him, even as he fumed at the obvious mistreatment she had suffered. "So typical."

Captain Varsas sighed, he knew he was going to regret this, but like a moth drawn to a flame he couldn't help it. "What do you mean Shar?"

"Just look at that poor girl, somewhere a bunch of yard-dogs poured they're sweat and tears into her, turned a bunch of raw metal into a work of art. For what?" Shar paused for a second, as if inviting a response from the tender's master. "I'll tell you what for, so a bunch of Navy types could take her out and get her blown apart just because they could."

"I'm sure that they would have preferred not to get the ship they were on torn apart if they could help it, Shar." Varsas replied patiently.

"That's the problem with you Navy people, you always have each other's back, never the yard guys. I got it, no matter what you people do you know that the yards will always fix it. You break them, we fix them." The yardmaster stated with a challenging stare.

"You do realize I'm the Captain of this ship, right? You know, Lord and Commander? Any of this ringing a bell with you?"

"So that's what all the braid is for." Shar said without missing a beat.

Varsas looked passed the caustic civilian toward his XO for support. For his part Commander Reynolds rolled his eyes and did his best to keep a straight face at his Captain's misfortune. Reynolds excused himself and moved off to check on the progress the crew was making on their external scans of the _Galactica._ Thanks a lot, thought Varsas. "Fine Shar, have you figured out the best way for the _Cadmus_ to dock with and provide support to that Battlestar?"

"Your XO seems to think that the bow of the ship is the best place. The _Galactica_ looks like it was designed to pull into a dock, her bow has a lot of umbilical hook-ups and large hatches for high speed transfer of stores." The yardmaster responded.

"Great we'll swing around and put her bow off of our port side, that way…" Varsas began.

"Not a good idea."

I knew it was too easy. Varsas thought to himself. "Why not?"

"Because whoever was driving that beast over there ran it into something, apparently they didn't get the memo about how ramming things with your ship is a no-no. Your best bet would be to do a standard dock to their port pod, not as many external umbilical hook-ups but we could run them through the hatches." Shar replied in a lecturing tone.

"Why not the starboard pod?" The Captain asked.

"Because they blew it to hell and back."

"Forget I asked." Growled Varsas.

The _Cadmus_ swung wide of the _Galactica_ and maneuvered to lay alongside the Battlestar's port pod. A great deal of chatter was traded between the ships and the relatively simple procedure was made difficult by the ignorance of either ship as to the others SOP (Standard Operating Procedure).

While the _Cadmus_ jockeyed for a good hard docking, a steady line of shuttles began lining up to land aboard the crippled Colonial warship.

THTHTHTHTHTHTHTHTHTHTHTHTHTHTH

Colonel Tigh spent a nerve wracking hour in the CIC of the _Galactica_ as the _Cadmus_ made her final approach to the Battlestar. As a result, the majority of the Tau'ri personnel arriving in the shuttles were greeted by junior officers assisted by his wife and some of the Cylons. The simple fact was that the bloody battle that the _Galactica_ had waged at the Cylon Colony had served to weld the former enemies together in a way that nothing else could have. Below decks surviving Cylon Centurions under the guidance of Chief Tyrol were clearing debris, attempting to get to vital sections of the ship. Cylon Twos and Sixes along with what medics were left were doing what they could for the wounded, and collecting the dead. The Battlestar was fighting for not just her life but the lives of her crew, Tigh could feel the ship's pain in the groaning of the bulkheads and the rattle of the ventilation system. The final meter between the ships was agonizingly slow and then a dull thud could be felt more than heard through the hull.

One of the ratings at the operations position looked up at the Colonel. "Contact Sir. We're showing a good seal at port external hatch three-three and four-seven."

Not too bad thought Tigh, considering the ships were built by different civilizations they still managed to match two hatches together in the docking. " _Cadmus_ we show a good connection at two hatches. We're ready to receive you." Tigh spoke into the sound powered phone he had been clutching the last few minutes.

"Affirmative _Galactica_ , we show a tight seal as well, we are at station keeping. I look forward to meeting you, and I am sure you can't wait to take the Yardmaster onboard." And I can't wait to get him the hell off of my ship, Varsus thought to himself gleefully.

THTHTHTHTHTHTHTHTHTHTHTHTHTHTH

Tigh had moved off quickly to greet the incoming Commander of the _Cadmus_ , this would be his first time dealing with a member of the Tau'ri military that actually out-ranked him. Everything that he had seen of the Tau'ri screamed professional, and he wanted to make certain that the _Galactica_ , despite her damaged state, presented a well-run professional appearance.

The primary hatch that the _Cadmus_ had been interested in was four-seven, that particular hatch was a supply and ordinance hatch. Three-three was strictly personnel, four-seven was large enough to move bulk cargo, and it was here that Tigh had gathered personnel to act as a sort of review for the Tau'ri Commander. No, he called himself a Captain, obviously the same title as the junior officer he met earlier, but Tigh had no doubt that the title notwithstanding, the rank was very different. Taking a final look at the assembled personnel, he turned his attention to the enlisted man standing by the hatch controls. "Go ahead and crack the hatch, Chief."

With a hiss and a groan, the huge multi-ton hatch began to rise, it took quite a few seconds for the hatch to complete its cycle. Tigh had already zeroed in on the people on the other side. He took note of the light grey walls of the Tau'ri ship, he saw that there were a number of individuals also standing in ranks on the Tender, and then he took note of the small group standing in front of the formation. Tigh's jaw dropped and he visibly recoiled.

Varsas sighed at the reaction of the Colonial Colonel, the man's reaction was not new, he had seen it a few times before when primitive worlds encountered a non-human species. Still, thought Varsas, the fact that here was a space capable race and they had apparently never seen a non-human was hard to believe.

The bay was deathly quiet, not a single word was said on the Colonial side. The Tau'ri, for their part simply stared, it was Varsas that made the first move. Stepping forward Varsas snapped off a sharp salute to Tigh; "Permission to come aboard, Sir?"

Despite the surprise that Tigh felt, tradition reasserted itself and he came to a position of attention. "Permission granted, Sir. Welcome aboard the _Galactica_." Tigh clearly enunciated as he returned the salute.

"Very good Colonel. I am Captain Delon Varsas, master of the _Cadmus_ , on behalf of the Tau'ri Navy I officially welcome you to the Sol System and the planet Earth." There was a pregnant pause, before a smattering of applause began and then it turned into a raucous thunder as every Colonial present began to clap.

Tigh continued to stare at the visage in front of him as he waited for the applause to die down. When the thunder turned into a low roar he leaned forward and asked; "Are you an Alien?"

"No, I'm a citizen of the Republic, and this is Republic space. As a matter of fact, this is our capital system, so that would make you the Alien. Don't worry we no longer deport aliens."

Tigh didn't quite know how to answer that, so he changed tact. "I was under the impression that Earth was a human planet?"

"Human's originated on Earth, but there are a number of different species in the Republic, and they are all equal in the eyes of the Constitution and the legal government." Varsas replied.

Tigh accepted what he had just heard, it was after all asinine to believe that in a Galaxy of 100 billion stars there was only human life. The fact that the Colonials had never encountered Aliens didn't detract from the mathematical certainty that there would be other life in space. New Caprica was a case in point, that relatively cold inhospitable world had had native life on it, nothing particularly advanced but still alien life. And then the other thing that Varsas had said registered. "What do you mean that human life originated on Earth?"

"That's a topic for another time Colonel, I'm here to support your ship, and we have a hell of a lot of work to do. Oh, let me introduce the Yardmaster that has been assigned to evaluate the _Galactica_." Varsas stated as he turned toward Shar. "This is Mr. Shar Marshall, he's the senior Yardmaster at the Tech Con shipyards."

Tigh stepped forward and forced himself to take the hand of the individual in front of him. Definitely an alien, this Shar had some of the same features as Varsas did, but he also exhibited some much more familiar traits. "What are you?"

"I'm a Serrakin/Human mix." Shar answered.

"How is that possible?" A dumbfounded Tigh asked.

"Oh the same way you happened, I would think. A whole bunch of bar hopping, some drinks, lots of money, and then nature takes it course. I take it you never had the Birds and the Bees explained to you Colonel?" Shar responded.

Tigh recoiled again, this time as a result of the caustic tone taken by the civilian yardmaster. He looked back and forth between a frowning Varsas and a grinning Shar before smiling at the yardmaster. "Oh I think I'm going to like you."

THTHTHTHTHTHTHTHTHTHTH

Stanley Witward walked briskly along the corridor of the Foreign Affairs Department, he had been summoned back to France to meet with his direct supervisor. Entering the Senior Diplomat's office, he had given his name to her secretary and took a seat. A few minutes later and he was called in.

Angela Delies was a career diplomat, she held her current position by dint of her vast experience, over fifty years. She had an excellent reputation within the halls of the Diplomatic Service. "Stanley, good to see you." She began.

"Ma'am thank you for seeing me." Witward responded as he moved to sit in an indicated seat.

"Any idea why I called you here?" Angela asked.

"I would think it has to do with the Colonial President's request to meet with the President." Was the quick response.

"That's a large part of it. It is also to let you know that I will be meeting with her, I want you to talk to the Cylon representative, one on one." Delies answered.

"I don't understand Ma'am, have I done something wrong?"

"Not at all, I am simply giving Ms. Roslin what she is after." Delies said as she leaned back in her seat.

"Forgive me Ma'am, but you're not the President. She asked to see the President one on one." Witward asked confused, he had expected a singular no, but here Delies was telling him that the answer was a …maybe?

"Stanley, she never expected to see the President. She is the President of a defeated people, a people that suffered a terrible holocaust. She kept them together for close to six years, all through force of personality. It takes an exceptional person to accomplish that, and an exceptional person would know that the leader of a galaxy wide Republic would never meet with, what is for all intents and purposes, the equivalent of a mid-sized city mayor."

"Then what is she after?" Was the perplexed response.

"She genuinely fears the Cylons Stanley, it's not about vengeance. It is about her attempt to ensure the safety of her people, and by extension ours. I read your report, I gave it quite a bit of scrutiny as a matter of fact. She invoked the President, and despite what we may consider an arrogant request, I certainly would not make a decision on that request. So what did I do? I referred it to my superiors, and what did the Undersecretary do, he read your report and referred it to the Secretary."

"And the Secretary said no?" Stanley asked.

"And the Secretary said no. But before he said no, he read your report. In one swoop she got her message all the way to the Cabinet level, far quicker than would normally happen. And what do you think the Secretary will do with that report, Stanley?" Angela asked.

Witward sat back and thought furiously, before giving his answer. "He will mention it to the President."

"Good." Angela said even as she invited Witward to continue with his line of reasoning.

"And the President will ask, what are we doing to ensure that what happened to the Colonies won't happen here." Witward said with growing respect for the Colonial President.

"Exactly. She is brilliant Stanley, she knows that she can't stop us from granting asylum to the Cylons, so she isn't even trying. Not really. But she is making damn sure that everyone up to and including the President knows what happened, and how it happened by way of your report.

Witward shook his head in wonder at how adroitly Laura Roslin had handled him. She had in the end been a step ahead of him the entire time.

"Don't feel too bad Stanley, like I said before she is brilliant. She had to be, to accomplish what she did. I'll meet with her, and by doing so she will get confirmation that her message was sent. She will also, I am sure, impress upon me just what was lost. She needs to talk about it Stanley, she need to work through exactly what was lost."

Witward inclined an eyebrow, in an unspoken question.

Angela chuckled sadly. "She's exceptional Stanley, but she's also human. And like any human in the same situation, she is suffering from PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder). Consider her talk to me as her first steps toward a cure. What I want from you Stanley is for you to present a series of proposals to the Cylons, I'll send you the outline of what I want done. These proposals, thanks to Roslin, include a series of promises and concessions that the Cylons will be required to make, and ones that we will hold them to."

"I understand Ma'am. May I ask what you and the Colonial President will be talking about?"

Angela smiled at Witward. "I will relay the Secretary's decision to grant asylum. I will also discuss available worlds, her and her people are worthy of some special consideration. I will also talk to her about some of her people's technology. What I will be doing Stanley, is making a deal."

THTHTHTHTHTHTHTHTHTHTH

Captain Roehn found himself in what was for all intents and purposes a standoff. Arrayed on one side of the large compartment, he had been taken to, were a group of Colonial Officers along with a multiple Human-form Cylons. Off to the side a mixed group of Centurions and Colonial Marines were keenly eyeing his two Soldiers. No one was pointing a weapon, but Roehn could feel the tension in the air. He could understand that, the very human fight or flight reflex was in play here, he needed to defuse the situation.

"I'm Captain Stephen Roehn, currently assigned as General Rudenko's aid, senior Commander in charge of Earth space defense." Stephen started. He noticed the nervous and unsure shuffling of some of the Cylons in the group and the beginnings of smiles on some of the Colonials. "I have been ordered here to notify the combined Colonial/Cylon forces that Earth will stand with you, that we will provide humanitarian assistance and technical support to you, the protectors of the refugee fleet." By lumping them all together, Roehn was hoping to stop any fraying of the alliance that these two disparate people had forged.

A human that had been introduced to him as Admiral Hoshi took a step forward and locked eyes with him. "How do we know you're telling us the truth, and not something that we want to hear?"

Human paranoia at play, it never really stopped amazing Stephen how so many people always assumed the worst. It was he thought understandable in this situation, after all how many times had they had they're hopes crushed in the last six years? He was preparing to answer him when Agathon beat him to the punch.

"If you don't want to trust him Hoshi, then trust me. You've known me a long time, and we've been through the hells together, I trust him so you can to." Agathon locked eyes with each and every person on the Colonial side, including the Cylons. Each and every person held Agathon's eyes for a few moments before looking away.

Interesting, thought Roehn, Hoshi may be called an Admiral but there was no doubt that Agathon held the real authority in this room. "Well Sir." Roehn directed at Hoshi, diplomatically. "General Rudenko and Admiral Adama agreed that it would be in the best interest of the refugee fleet if Tau'ri fleet units closed with and provided security for your ships. Once we have secured the safety of the fleet, a large number of shuttles and ships will be arriving to provide medical and humanitarian support. We were led to believe that the needs of the refugee fleet were dire, and as such Admiral Adama dispatched both Major Agathon and myself to notify the leadership of this fleet of the support that was coming."

"Where is Admiral Adama?" Hoshi asked.

"He is currently on Earth in discussions with diplomatic and military representatives of our Republic. He is attempting to secure asylum for your people." Roehn answered.

"And our people, what happened to them?" Asked a Cylon. One of the striking Sixes, noted Roehn.

"They are present as well, a Ms. Biers is speaking for your people, and I believe she will be asking for asylum on behalf of your people as well." Roehn stated as a quiet murmuring began among the mixed Colonial/Cylon group.

"What do you need from us, Captain?" Hoshi inquired.

"I need your help, Admiral. My people will do what we can, we need to make sure your people don't run at the first sign of our warships." Roehn replied.

"How many warships, are we talking about? A Six asked.

"I believe that there is a Cruiser Squadron in close proximity to you. That would be four capital ships and ten escorts, as I recall." Roehn said.

"And after your ships secure us?" Hoshi probed.

"The support ships will begin to prioritize and provide support to the ships and people in the greatest need. Once your people and Earth come to an agreement I would think we would begin to move your fleet to a Republic system. Sir, with respect, we can sit here and play twenty questions, or we could save lives, your choice." Roehn finished.

Hoshi looked back and forth between Roehn and Agathon, before finally nodding his head. "Fine Captain, do you need us to send a signal?"

"Yes Sir, I do. But before I send that signal, I would recommend that you notify your ships regarding what is going on and the imminent arrival of foreign warships. We don't want a misunderstanding." Roehn said with a smile.

Hoshi smiled back for the first time. "Very well Captain, please accompany me to the CIC."

THTHTHTHTHTHTHTHTHTHTH

Roslin had been sitting quietly in the VIP quarters provided for her on Emerson, it had been two days since that first fateful meeting between the Tau'ri and the Colonial/Cylon delegation. Two days since she had demanded to speak to their President. This morning she had received a response, a Ms. Angela Delies would be coming to meet her at 1700 local time. The meeting was hours away, but Laura was taking the time to prepare herself for what almost certainly promised to be a tumultuous get together. Roslin looked up as a soft chime sounded from her door. "Yes?"

"It's me Laura." Came a familiar gruff voice.

Laura smiled as she crossed the distance to the door and pressed the activation pad located adjacent to it. The door slid open revealing the scarred visage of Admiral Adama.

Adama stepped into the room and waited for the door to close, and then he wrapped Laura in a tight embrace. Laura returning the gesture without reservation. "I missed you."

"I missed you too." Laura responded with a heartfelt smile. "How's the _Galactica_?"

Adama smiled back before answering. He had spent the last day and a half on the Battlestar inspecting and evaluating the damage along with Tigh and the bizarre and aggravating yardmaster. "Better than expected, this Shar is damn brilliant. If it wasn't for the fact that Shar is an alien, I would feel like we were back at Scorpio Shipyards."

Laura frowned for a second. "How is that working out?"

"Not too bad actually. Shar is one of the most annoying, royal pain in the ass people I have ever had the misfortune of dealing with. He has no social skills, is downright rude, and incredibly sure of himself. Tigh and him are acting like two long lost brothers, damnest thing I ever saw." Adama finished as he shook his head.

Laura laughed lightly as she led him to a small sofa provided in the suite. The two leaders of the Remnant sitting down together side by side. Laura leaning into Adama and placing her head on his shoulder. "Why are you here Bill, I heard you have a dinner invitation tonight, I would have thought you would be getting ready for that."

"I see the grapevine is just as effective here as it is on the _Galactica_." Adama replied.

"So, I heard it was with a young lady." Laura said in a teasing voice.

"As a matter of fact it is. I received an invitation from Captain Miyake to tour the _Suffren_ and dine with her officers." Adama, not rising to the bait, replied.

"Well I'm sure that not only will it be an eye opening experience but a fun one as well." Laura stated.

"Oh, I have no doubt. At least for me it will be a great deal of fun, as for Captain Miyake probably not as much." Adama answered.

Laura leaned back and looked at Bill. "Why do you say that?"

"Well." Adama started. "I have no doubt Captain Miyake meant it to be an entertaining and somewhat informal get together between officers, but it will probably be a royal pain in the ass for her. If the Tau'ri military is anything like ours than you can bet that she had to ask permission for a foreign flag officer to dine on her ship, much less tour it. So, I'm willing to bet that at least one Tau'ri flag officer will join the party, and no ship Master wants they're boss hanging around."

"I can see that being a problem for her." Laura responded. "But you still haven't answered my question Bill, why are you here?"

"I heard you had an appointment yourself." Adama said.

"Huh, I guess your right about the grapevine around here." Laura said with a smile.

"What are you going to say?"

"I'm going to tell them that they can't trust those fraking machines. It's as simple as that." Laura responded.

"Laura, they won't understand that. They're going to see you as a vengeful, spiteful, unforgiving person." Adama said quietly.

"Of course they won't understand Bill. Thirty billion dead, or three million dead, the human mind can't wrap itself around those numbers, so it just morphs into a lot. The Tau'ri didn't suffer the losses, we did. It's hard for them to really understand. Do you think for a second that anyone on that planet would be so forgiving if they were the sole survivor of their family? If everyone they knew, mother, father, wife, husband, child, if they were all dead do you think they would forgive, really forgive. Would it matter to them, if the people responsible for all that death suddenly repented, would they really forgive them? Oh we are so sorry; we regret what happened. Here let me help you up, after we killed everyone around you. Do you think they would Bill? Do you think the Tau'ri would really accept that? It didn't happen to them, it happened to us, and like I said it's just an abstract number to them. Some people down there are going to see me as some crazy bitch, fine. But I still have to try."

"Why." Bill asked.

"Because it's the right thing to do. Before I was President of the Colonies, I was the Secretary of Education. Before I was the Secretary of Education I was a teacher. I still remember holding little hands, I still remember the sense of wonder in those little faces when you told them about the stars, or animals, or fairytales. I remember comforting them when they cried because they fell off a swing or a slide." Laura paused here and took a deep sighing breath. "How many kids were riding they're bike or climbing a tree when the blast wave hit them? How many were playing with they're dolls, or taking a bath when the radiation literally flash-fried them? And what about the unlucky ones, the ones that didn't die in that first awful second, the ones that parents had to hold as they're hair fell out and they coughed up blood, and they asked why? Thirty billion dead, means eight billion children Bill. That's why I have to try. For them, not for vengeance, but for eight billion children that will never have the chance to grow up."

Laura Roslin, President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobold laid her head on the Admiral's shoulder folded her legs on the sofa and sobbed quietly for her dead.

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Captain Natsuki Miyake leaned back in her comfortable chair and rubbed her eyes. Not for the first time she wondered if she could wing herself in the foot with her sidearm, that would give her the excuse she needed to call off the disaster she saw coming. She had invited Admiral Adama to dinner that evening, she saw it as a chance to thank a man that by all accounts was a genuine hero. The chance to show off the _Suffren_ was also to good an opportunity to pass up, the cruiser was Natsuki's first capital command, and she was justifiably proud of the 433.

The issue arose from the fact that once she sent down the request, General Rudenko had heard of the invitation. Rudenko was a Four-Star General the equivalent of a full Admiral, so he had invited himself as Admiral Adama's contact to the Central Government. In case that wasn't bad enough he had taken the chance to make good on his promise to introduce General O'Neill to the Colonial Admiral. O'Neill was a Five-Star, point of fact the only Five-Star in the entire Republic. The fact that the living Hero of the Republic, plus a Four-Star General was coming to her ship guaranteed that the Home Fleet Commander, a full Admiral would also attend. The attendance of her own Squadron Commander, a Commodore suddenly became very anti-climactic.

Commander Veladen, her Genii XO, was busy dressing the ship and taking care of the myriad of tasks her ill-conceived gesture had generated. Miyake herself was putting the final touches on the seating chart, suddenly there was a lot less room for her officers. She had to seat all of her "guests" by seniority, the exception being Admiral Adama who held the place of honor. She also had to have the junior officer of the ship present, and the remaining seats went to what department heads she could fit at the table.

Miyake sighed as she took note of the time, little more than an hour before her Squadron Commander was scheduled to arrive, half an hour after that Admiral Adama would be piped onboard. She would have two hours to tour the ship with him, before the three senior officers arrived. Well she had better get back to her cabin and put on her dress uniform, this could potentially be a very long evening.

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Admiral Adama was the sole occupant in the passenger compartment of the Captain's gig, a well-appointed smart looking small craft, that the _Suffren_ had sent over to collect him on the _Galactica_. He was sitting in a plush seat and gazing out of the oversized windows at the _Suffren_. The pilot, following the instructions given to him earlier by his Captain, took a leisurely approach to the heavy cruiser, he circled the CA433 ensuring his passenger got a good look at they're destination.

Adama studied the ship before him, this was the first chance he had gotten to see a Tau'ri warship. She was sleek, smaller than a Battlestar, maybe eleven hundred meters, still bigger than a Gunstar. She was showing a number of turreted weapons of some type, as well as smaller point defense guns. There was also a number of large hatches located along her spine, most likely missile launchers. Her bow also displayed a relatively large aperture weapon of some type, possibly a spinal mount, Adama mused. No large obvious hangar, so she was most likely a pure gunship. There was a large "587" stenciled on the side of her bow, and her name was proudly displayed at her stern.

The gig made a slight correction and lined up on an open hatch in her dorsal area. Adama could see directly into the small hangar and was surprised that people were standing there, apparently exposed to the vacuum of space. The fact that they were standing there, and not dead, spoke of very advanced technology being present onboard the heavy cruiser. He took a good solid look at the side of the hangar as they entered the ship and caught a tell-tale blue flash as they entered the bay. A force field perhaps? Adama wondered. He shook his head, so much of what he saw was the stuff of Science Fiction.

Adama savored the moment, the chance to get on that ship and meet his future peers. He gave a contented sigh as he prepared to disembark.


	5. Chapter 5

First, I want to apologize for the extreme length of time between chapters. I am so sorry that I let my readers down, this fic was intended to allow me to share a (hopefully) good story with other fans of two very good series. My plan was intended to allow me to post regular updates bi-monthly. Real life has a way of intruding. I recently retired from the Army as some of you know, at the beginning of the year my family began what we hoped would be our last move. It was at this time that my wife was diagnosed with possible throat cancer. You can imagine the impact this had on us. By the grace of God it worked out in the end. I'm telling you this because I want you to understand why what happened, happened. Writing is a joy for me, and I want to continue to do so. But writing is only part of it, I truly enjoy the feedback from all of you. I realize that to get this feedback I need to be as loyal as possible to all of you.

Second, I broke the chapter I just completed into two parts, I realized that it was getting unwieldy and that what you see below had a logical end point, so I posted it. I will post the second half, next week, count on it.

Third, Thanks to everyone out there, especially the ones that requested that I continue with my humble work. The reference down below to other survivors was my providing a logical opening to the timelines that exist is some excellent BSG fanfiction that is on this site as well as others. These authors inspired me to write, and I hope to contact some of them to ask permission to quote or integrate some material. Albertg your stories turned me on to Fanfiction in the first place, an excellent storyteller and one I am hoping to bounce some more ideas off of, and if possible to sucker into guest authoring a chapter or two, one can hope.

Finally, a few of you have stated that I can get too "techie" in parts. I understand, but it is my style of writing. And honestly just wait till you see some of the descriptions in the next chapter regarding the systems onboard the _Suffren_. I promise to not detract from the story with my techno-babble, or at least try not to.

 _I own neither Stargate nor Battlestar Galactica. Any original ideas and technology, use of technology, as well as the narrative and the situations that appear within this story are my own. This story cannot be used to garner any type of monetary reward or payment. Enjoy the Fic._

Chapter 5

Adama waited patiently as the crew chief took a quick look outside the shuttle through a small port. Assuring himself that all was as it should be outside the gig, the enlisted man cycled and opened the hatch, he then stepped aside making way for the Admiral.

Adama gave a nod to the crew chief as he stepped off of the small craft. He took note of the large gathering of the ship's company, well over two hundred of them standing in formation. Just ahead of the neat ordered ranks was a small group of officers. Briefed ahead of time by the lieutenant that acted as the gig's pilot, he walked up to the green line denoting the official boarding point of the cruiser. A typically young looking Tau'ri officer waited for him just on the other side of the line. The Admiral came to attention and snapped off a sharp salute. "Permission to come aboard, Sir."

The young officer returned the salute. "Permission granted, Sir. Welcome to the _Suffren._ I am Commander Jestun Veladen, executive officer of the _Suffren_." Veladen turned to the small group of officers waiting a step behind him. "Please allow me to introduce Captain Natsuki Miyake, commanding officer of the Heavy Cruiser _Suffren_."

A striking Asian woman stepped forward and shook the Admiral's outstretched hand. "A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance Admiral." Miyake said.

"The pleasure is all mine Captain, thank you for the invitation to dine on your fine ship." Adama replied as he shook her hand.

Miyake smiled as she answered the Admiral with a twinkle in her eye. "You haven't seen anything yet Sir. I would like to introduce Commodore Iren Castula, commanding officer of CRURON 1208."

Adama smiled and shook hands with the woman that came forward to meet him. He noticed that while she was just as young looking as Miyake, she somehow gave off the aura of a severe matron. "Commodore, a pleasure."

"I can say the same Admiral." Castula responded.

Miyake introduced the remaining senior staff of the _Suffren_ before leading Adama out of the hangar and into wonderland.

The first thing that Adama noticed was the light gray that the cruiser's walls were painted, the ship was extremely well lit and bright. So very different then the dark tones that a Colonial warship wore. Everything looked extremely well maintained and gave the impression of being new.

"How old is the _Suffren_ , if I may ask, Captain?"

"She's a little over five years old Sir. I am honored to be her second Commander." Natsuki answered.

"You run a very tight ship Captain." Adama stated.

"Thank you Sir. I am lucky to have Commander Veladen, he is a very dedicated and conscientious XO. Plus, I am blessed with an outstanding crew, the best in the Squadron as a matter of fact." Miyake replied.

"I'm sure Captain Nerise on the _Mogami_ would disagree with you on that last point Natsuki." The Commodore replied, but a slight smile and a wink directed at the Admiral conveyed her agreement with Miyake's viewpoint.

"He may Ma'am, but it doesn't change the facts. Admiral, I thought we could start in engineering and work our way forward, if that would be acceptable?" Miyake asked.

"That would be fine Captain, I look forward to seeing as much as I can." Adama continued to engage the two officers in small talk as they walked aft toward engineering.

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With a flash of light Laura Roslin appeared on a pad in France, she gripped her midsection as the rings that surrounded her suddenly collapsed into the floor. With a slight gasp she turned toward the Tau'ri woman accompanying her. "You could have given me some warning."

"I apologize Madame President; I was under the impression that you had been informed of the rings." The aide lied smoothly. Not telling the Colonial President about the ring transport was a simple way to keep her off balance for the coming meeting.

"Please follow me." The aide stated and then turned and led the way down a large open hall.

Laura for her part hid her annoyance at the obvious lie, the reason behind it was equally obvious, they wanted to impress upon her what her real position was. Specifically, she was a small town mayor calling unannounced on a huge central government, and she came asking favors. Laura sighed softly at the feeling of being a pauper come calling on royalty. As they walked she became aware of something else, sunlight coming from the open sides of the walkway as well as a gentle warm breeze. Laura stopped and looked out on the beautiful gardens that surrounded the building she was in. She breathed deeply, enjoying the exotic scents that came to her. For the first time in years she felt as if she belonged, no recycled air, no harsh lights, just nature.

The aide stood quietly beside Roslin, watching her keenly as she simply stared out at the well-manicured gardens. She felt somewhat guilty at the minor subterfuge regarding the rings, but it was thought that a reminder of the advanced nature of Earth would serve to both reassure her as well as make her more agreeable in the upcoming negotiations.

Laura spent a few more moments basking in the sunlight, she used the time to center herself before turning back to the aide. "Please lead on." She said with a dazzling smile.

The aide nodded and led Laura deeper into the huge Foreign Affairs Department.

Angela Delies was standing in front of her large oak desk as the Colonial President was ushered in.

"Ambassador Delies please allow me to introduce Madame Laura Roslin, President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol." The two women shook hands, and Delies dismissed the aide. Both women moving to a set of comfortable armchairs with a small table sitting between them.

"I appreciate the semi-formal format of this meeting." Laura said.

"I wanted us to have a comfortable meeting, hopefully that will allow us to accomplish some real work here today." Angela replied with a smile.

"I see, pity that comfort didn't apply to that stunt with those ring transports of yours." Laura stated.

Angela's already high estimation of the Colonial President went up another notch. "I apologize for that, but if nothing else it served to confirm the viewpoint that I have formed about you."

"And what would that be?"

"That you're direct, intelligent, and have little patience for games." Angela answered her.

"Well then, shall we begin?" Laura asked.

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Col. Tigh and Shar Marshall were in a somewhat heated conversation as they slowly made their way toward the main briefing room on the _Galactica._ A number of crewmen saw the pair coming toward them and quickly ducked into side spaces as the pair passed by. The ones that had no choice but to go by them lowered their heads and pretended to be deep in thought desperate to avoid eye contact.

"I knew it was bad, but I didn't think it was that bad. Besides, you're supposed to be the almighty Tau'ri Republic, your telling me you can't fix the old girl up? If this were Scorpio she'd be back in the fight in a few months!" Tigh practically growled.

"Based on the material condition this Battlestar is in, I don't doubt for a second that your right. I'm sure they would probably throw some paint and duct tape on her and push her out the dock. The workmanship on this ship is atrocious! And besides Saul, I didn't say we couldn't fix her, I said normally I would recommend scrapping her. There's a big difference between can't and would rather not! You're sure that this Caprican Standard of yours is the same thing as English, right? Because either you don't understand what I'm saying or you are really good at selective listening. Now I know how my wife feels." Shar replied equally forcefully.

"Listen you bald bastard, no one is scrapping the Grand Old Lady of the Colonial Fleet, that also happens to be the last Battlestar left. Not while I'm still standing!"

"Did you really just call me bald? Have you looked in a mirror lately or did your looks break them all? And as for bastard, remember I know my father, do you know which test tube you came out of?!" Shar practically laughed in his face.

"I'm serious Shar!" Tigh snapped.

"Fine, I agree."

"Listen, I'm telling you for a fact…. what?!"

"I said I agree." Shar sighed.

"What's the catch?" Tigh asked, suddenly suspicious.

"Oh for Maker's sake, listen you old goat, there's no catch, not really. The military already agreed to pay to fix her up, and I like a challenge, so Tech Con will fix her. Hell, General O'Neill himself apparently authorized it. From what my boss said he plans on talking to your Admiral about a major deal." Shar answered exasperated.

"What kind of deal?"

Shar sighed again before answering. "Look the Tau'ri Navy is huge, we have fleets in three galaxies, as well as exploration squadrons in half a dozen others. Those fleets are built by three major defense corporations, Newport Iron Works here in the Milky Way, Pax Aerospace in Pegasus, and Kulturarv Hammer in the Ida Galaxy. Now those three mega-corporations share and build designs that they've each developed, a good example of that is the _Suffren_ that your Admiral is rubbing elbows on. That cruiser is a CA433 class, designed by Newport Iron and optimized for use here in the Milky Way, the _Shenandoah_ on the other hand is a CA435 class and it's designed by Hammer for use in Ida. Because each corporation builds all the classes available, but only pay the design and development costs for a third of those classes, they can maintain a huge competitive edge. One that Tech Con can't compete with."

"I thought Tech Con was a major player? After all Earth awarded you guys the contract for the _Galactica_." Tigh stated.

"Ha, Tech Con is a major player when it comes to civilian ships. The largest warships we've produced to date are cutters and corvettes, for use in system defense navies. We got the _Galactica_ contract because the Newport docks in the Sol System are all filled with new construction and she's to damaged to tow to another system. The _Galactica_ falls into a type of ships called the SCS or Space Control Ship. Now there is exactly one class of SCS out there, the SCS456. Pax designed it and it's basically a jack of all trades. It has cruiser class firepower and a light carrier sized aerospace wing, all wrapped up in a battleship sized hull. That ship is great for small formations or navies that aren't going into major actions. The strength of the SCS is it provides the capabilities of two classes. The weakness is it isn't particularly good at either. The one thing that it does have is a good price tag for what you get, even though it's still overpriced." Shar stated.

"I get it, and you want the _Galactica_ to compete with this SCS?" Tigh replied more than asked.

"Got it in one. We could design something new, but we would catch hell trying to market it against the Big Three. But the _Galactica_ has a story attached to it, one that a whole bunch of System Navies will eat up, we build these things using Tau'ri materials and tech, it's smaller than the SCS class so we can attach a lower price, and market it to the individual systems. It should be attractive at least with the systems that have a tighter budget but still want something bigger than a frigate." Shar said.

"Sounds like a good plan, but if you're going to do that you need to be able to show off the _Galactica._ " Tigh replied with a knowing smile.

"Your right, not only do we need her fixed up to pull this off, but we need her brought up to Tau'ri standards."

"So you get a new class of ship, what do we get out of it?" Tigh asked.

"You mean besides a like new ship that's equipped with advanced tech that you knuckle dragging barbarians never even thought possible?

"Yeah, besides that, especially considering that Tech Con isn't even paying to fix her up, the military is." Tigh answered.

"Well that's up to your Admiral Adama. The CEO of Tech Con arrived from Hebridan this morning, he's going to dinner along with General O'Neill on the _Suffren._ I guess that at some point the brain trust over there will have a heart to heart and try to work out a deal. I hope the poor _Suffren_ can handle all that ego onboard at once, she's only a heavy cruiser after all."

The two stopped talking as they arrived at the briefing room. Captain Varsas and his XO were already present sharing small talk with the representatives from the _Galactica's_ various departments. Interestingly enough a Cylon number Two, who's cover had been a Naval Dock worker at Picon, was also present and involved in an animated discussion with Chief Tyrol. Varsas took note of the Colonel's entrance along with the despised Yard Master, so he asked everyone to take their seats. This may have been the _Galactica_ , but Varsas was the senior officer present as well as the individual in charge of nursing the Battlestar along, at least until she was turned over to the dock.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the purpose of this meeting is not to summarize the myriad of issues that currently ails this Battlestar, that's Tech Con's problem." Varsas nodded toward Shar. "Rather it is to discuss how we are going to get from Lunar orbit to the Tech Con dry dock located around Calisto. When we decide on a recommended path here, Colonel Tigh, Mr. Marshall, and myself will brief the Admiral and hopefully get his blessing. Any questions? Outstanding, let's get started." Varsas stated.

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The Colonial Remnant Fleet was currently holding position 11.2 light years from the Sol System. The ships themselves were arrayed in two staggered lines with a number of small shuttles flitting back and force between them. The Baseship was centrally located between the two lines. A large white painted ship, with distinctive red crosses on her flanks, was holding position a few kilometers away. Tau'ri warships could be seen in the distance slowly circling the civilian ships. It was a picture of calm, sadly that calm didn't extend to the interior of the Colonial ships themselves.

"I won't tell you again! Step back!" The Colonial Marine Sergeant yelled into the desperate face of a man trying to push his way toward a landed Tau'ri shuttle. The Marine, a former member of the _Pegasus_ , was the leader of a twenty-man security detachment, that was desperately trying to maintain order onboard the overloaded freighter. The limited Marines available within the civilian fleet were exhausted from moving from ship to ship attempting to maintain order. Hundreds of hungry civilians were trying to rush the shuttle and the promise of the food it contained. The Marines resorted to locking arms and trying to hold the desperate mass of humanity back.

"Damn it people, back away, or the shuttle will not even open up!" The Marine tried again.

"That food is ours! We need that food; our children need that food!" Came screams from the crowd.

"You're not going to get a damn thing if you don't…" The Marine never got a chance to finish as a man behind the one he had been yelling at suddenly threw an overhand punch. The Sergeant, that had chosen to not lower his face-shield, was struck full force. Blood exploded from the stricken Marine's nose as he stumbled back from the sucker punch.

That did it. His fellow Marines broke ranks and an all-out brawl broke out. The fully loaded Tau'ri shuttle sat sealed on the deck even as the riot raged around it.

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"That's the fifth riot to break out in the last two days!" The Quorum member from Aerilon said, disgust evident in his voice.

"We can't effectively distribute the food and medical supplies if we don't get this situation under control." The Virgon representative said.

"Well we better figure this out or its going to get worse, way worse, before it ever gets better" A fellow member said.

"Can't you provide more Marines, Admiral?" Priscilla Danishe, the Picon representative asked.

Hoshi who was seated on the opposite side of the compartment, alongside Captain Roehn and a Cylon number Six, looked up. "I'm afraid no more Marines are available Ma'am; the majority of the Marines went with the _Galactica_."

"Rather a shortsighted decision wouldn't you say Admiral?" Grumbled the Canceron representative.

"I believe that Admiral Adama thought they would be better utilized in the attack on the Colony. You know, the attack that saved our lives?" Hoshi snarled back.

"Watch your tone, Admiral." The title coming out sounding like a curse. "You're not Adama, and the same discretion we allow him is not available to you."

"No, you watch your tone Tony!" Snapped Priscilla. "Same discretion we allow Adama? I don't recall that the Admiral ever asked this Quorum, or the one before it as a matter of fact, for permission to do anything. But I'll tell you what why don't we call the Admiral and ask him directly? I've been told the Tau'ri can talk to Earth in real time. What do you say, shall we call him?"

The former Picon accountant locked eyes with the Canceron businessman. Tony Abelnath held her eyes for a moment before looking away. "No, that's not necessary." Abelnath muttered.

"I apologize for the interruption Admiral." Priscilla said sweetly. "You were saying?"

"Thank you Ma'am." Hoshi gave her a genuine smile as he answered her. "I only have a total of forty-two Marines available on the Baseship. With the Tau'ri ships providing fleet security, I really don't need the Vipers. I suppose I can augment those numbers with pilots and ground personnel, but they don't have any training in crowd control, and they really won't have any equipment. We could utilize Centurions" Hoshi said as he looked over at the Six beside him.

"Absolutely not!" A number of voices practically hissed from the Quorum.

Mark Linder, the Caprican Representative, had been silent till this moment. "We will not have those murderous abominations corralling our people like they did on New Caprica. You think these riots are bad? Just have a couple of those toasters march onboard one of those ships and see what happens." Linder turned a dark glare toward the Six, daring her to say something.

In the awkward silence that followed Priscilla turned her attention on the young looking Tau'ri sitting in their midst. "Captain, what about your people, those ships out there certainly carry Marines? Is there anything you can do?"

Stephen sighed gently as his mind raced. The simple fact was that according to reports he received from Earth, the Cylons and Colonials on the _Galactica_ were functioning as a cohesive crew. They had been fully integrated. That relationship had been further forged in desperate combat. The Remnant Fleet on the other hand had not had that same opportunity. The Cylons had stayed on the Baseship and had, as a result, absolutely no interaction with the rest of the fleet. While the Colonial crew assigned to the Baseship and the Cylons onboard tolerated each other, the civilian ships had nothing but hatred for the Cylons. Hatred died hard.

"I'm not sure that armed Soldiers onboard your ships is the image that Earth wants to portray, Ma'am." Stephen answered.

"I'm sure it's not son, but if we don't get control of this situation we will end up with more and more riots, and eventually people will die." Priscilla responded.

Roehn looked down and rubbed his eyes hiding a tired grin that broke out despite the dire situation he found himself in. Son, huh, it was going to be interesting when the average Colonial found out just how old he really was. Roehn looked back up and met Priscilla's gaze. "Ma'am I can contact the _Canarias,_ and forward your request to Admiral Cordoba. It's her call, but I stress, I am not sure how open she will be to deploying armed troops to your ships. It's entirely possible she will see this situation as a purely internal matter of the Colonial people."

"Do you think the Admiral would be willing to meet with the Quorum here, or perhaps we could meet with her on the _Canarias_?" The Libran representative asked.

"Again Sir, I can forward your request. I would think that she would be open to meeting with you." Roehn replied.

"I think that would be best. We need to have some kind of resolution with this situation before it really gets out of hand." Priscilla said softly.

"Very well Ma'am, I'll contact her immediately." Roehn said as he stood up.

The Quorum waited quietly while the two military officers and the Six left the compartment.

"What do you think?" Asked Beth Parker, the Leonis representative.

"I think we better fix this before somebody really does get killed." Priscilla responded to her peer.

"That's not what I mean, do you really think we can trust them?"

"The Tau'ri? You better hope we can." Priscilla glanced at Beth with surprise.

"Not them, the Cylons. Do you really believe we can trust them?"

"Look Beth, I hate them as much as anyone else in this fleet, but they haven't done anything other than keep their heads down since the _Galactica_ left."

"They killed our civilization Priscilla. Twelve dead planets, billions of dead." Beth said quietly.

"What's your point?" Michael Neath, the Aerilon representative asked.

"My point is this, they killed our worlds. They killed them by infiltrating our society, and keeping their heads down. Familiar, don't you think? They made sure to take the Colonial Navy out of the picture. We never saw it coming, the first we knew was when the Colonies burned. They're stated intention was to annihilate the Human Race." Beth looked around at her colleagues as she continued talking. "They got twelve of the Colonies, what if they wanted to get the thirteenth one as well? After all, if you're going to commit genocide you need to make sure you get everyone."

"But this Earth isn't the Thirteenth Colony." Priscilla said softly.

"Then what is it?" Beth asked.

"I don't know, a splinter group, lost ships from the original Exodus possibly. But not the Thirteenth." Priscilla replied.

"How do you know that, Priscilla?" Beth asked intently.

"We followed the Scrolls, we followed the clues in them. The Arrow of Apollo, we found the way points just like they were described in Pythia. The Beacon in the Lion's head Nebula. We found a blasted world." Pricilla said, a hint of doubt creeping into her voice.

"The Sacred Scrolls, the same Scrolls that the Cylons know as well as we do? The Arrow of Apollo, that prophecy said could lead us to Earth? The same Arrow we found on Kobol? Kobol a world that was crawling with Cylons when we got there. The Beacon that the Thirteenth Tribe left behind. Interesting how that worked out. A virus that Humans were immune to, but that wiped out any Cylon that came near it. Not exactly the type of virus you would expect to find on a beacon left behind by a supposedly cybernetic based tribe? Funny how we found a dead world full of destroyed Cylons, not a single machine survived." Beth said without a trace of humor.

"My gods." Abelnath said hoarsely. "We led them right to Earth, we practically handed its location to them!"

"No, no it can't be, it's not possible." Priscilla said with little conviction. "I have no military experience, but I can see fourteen Tau'ri ships out there. Fourteen to one Beth! If that Baseship tries anything surely those fourteen ships out there could destroy them."

"Maybe, maybe not. Is that a chance your prepared to take Priscilla, with the last human world in the universe a single jump away?"

"What do we do? Dear gods what do we do?" Neath asked.

"We have to contact the _Canarias_ ; we have to warn them!" Abelnath said.

"No! If Beth is right, and I'm not completely convinced she is, the Cylons could have already infected their computers. Any message we sent to the Tau'ri would be intercepted and read by the Cylons." The Picon woman said.

"We can't just sit here and do nothing!" Neath said.

"If this really is happening the Cylons could have attacked Earth and those ships out there anytime they wanted to. The fact that they haven't means that they are waiting for something, overt action on our part could set them off. We wait, we wait till we meet with Admiral Cordoba and can tell her face to face. And then we hope to the gods that your wrong Beth."

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Unlike Roslin, Leoben and D'Anna found themselves in the same conference room that their earlier meeting had taken place in. There were no Colonial Representatives present, just Mr. Witward and the two Cylons. A small table had replaced the large ones that had been present before. Witward stood up as they entered and greeted them before motioning them to take a seat.

"Mr. Witward, good to see you again." Leoben intoned.

"Mr. Conoy, Ms. Biers, I'm sure you're wondering why just the three of us are meeting here."

"I'm afraid that you're going to tell us that your government has decided to not grant us asylum." Leoben said, as Biers looked on with a haunted look.

"No, not at all Mr. Conoy, my government has agreed to your request for asylum." Mr. Witward said, even as he took note of the beginnings of true hope flaring in Biers' eyes. "Provided you meet certain requirements as put forth by my government."

Leoben leaned forward. "Please continue Mr. Witward."

"Before we go any further I want to ask you a question." Witward replied. "Are you and the other Cylons onboard the _Galactica_ and the Remnant Fleet the last of your kind?"

"No. We built over three hundred Baseships for the attack on the Colonies. We lost less than five during the surprise attack. A few dozen more were destroyed fighting remnant forces. When the _Galactica_ destroyed the Colony there were no Baseships present. That means that approximately two hundred and fifty new style Baseships are unaccounted for." Leoben said truthfully.

"Dozens destroyed, I wasn't aware that the _Galactica_ was so successful against your forces." Replied Witward surprised.

"She's a good ship, and Adama is a great leader, but she isn't the only Colonial warship that our virus failed to stop." Leoben said quietly.

"Conoy." D'Anna said.

"No D'Anna, no secrets, no more secrets. If we want these people to trust us, if we want to really start a new life, then we can't keep anything back." Was the quiet response to Biers' words.

Now it was Witward's turn to lean forward. "Your telling me that there are other Colonial survivors out there!? Does Adama and Roslin know?"

"Yes, no matter how successful our attack was, we were never going to get everyone out there. The _Galactica_ and the _Pegasus_ were the ones that left the Cyranus Sector, the ones that were following the Prophecy that we all believed in. Other Battlestars and survivors stayed and fought, many died fighting us, others didn't. As for Admiral Adama and Roslin, no they didn't know."

"How many more ships survived, how many more survivors are we talking about?" Witward demanded.

"We never really knew how many, we thought we had accounted for all of the Battlestars, but we were wrong. Plus, there were a number of smaller ships, Gunstars, Faststars, and others that we weren't as worried about as we should have been. If I had to place a number on how many more civilians are out there I would have to say a few million at the very least." Leoben stated quietly.

"Why didn't you tell them, they had a right to know?" Witward pressed.

"Remember when I said that we knew God's will? Well we believed that we were helping to bring about his Prophecy. If we had told Adama he would have wanted to turn around and help however he could. Roslin may have wanted to press on, but she wouldn't have been able to control Adama under those circumstances. We couldn't take a chance on the Refugee Fleet being destroyed, and that's what would have happened if the _Galactica_ had run back to Cyranus." Leoben said as he met Witward's accusing eyes.

"Do you know where these other Colonial Remnants are?" Was the grated response.

"No, they made contact and broke contact at their whim. They would show up destroy some of our ships, rescue survivors when and wherever possible and then fade away. The fact that we never knew where or when they were going to appear was and is their greatest strength." Biers answered this time.

Witward looked back and forth between the two Cylons with a forced expression of neutrality on his face, and then he abruptly stood up. "As a result of this new information provided by you, I have a number of calls to place and I need to get clarification on a few things. Please wait here, the guards outside the door will see to any requests you may have. I believe it should be an hour or so before I return." With those words Witward turned around and walked out the conference room door.

Biers and Conoy waited patiently in the room, the silence stretching out between them. It was Biers that finally spoke into the ringing silence. "Why? Why did you tell him? Any chance we had of starting a new life here is gone, they can never trust us now." The words were forced and they sounded like a funeral dirge.

Leoben turned to look at D'Anna, he took note of the unshed tears in her eyes, and the tightness around her lips. He sighed and reached forward and placed his hands on top of hers and gave a gentle squeeze. "Maybe. But I had no choice. I don't know if you could live this new life, actually live it, knowing that we hadn't really changed. How could we say we had, when we knowingly left millions of innocents to die out there, simply because we were embarrassed by the fact that they had survived? I certainly couldn't. We've killed billions, billions D'Anna." And here Conoy paused and sighed deeply before continuing. "Billions of our own people D'Anna, and we did so out of misguided beliefs. That in many ways is the greatest tragedy that happened, we almost wiped out our own race. If I can save whatever is left out there, even at the cost of my own life, then so be it."

"They'll kill them you know. Earth will send warships and our people will fight them, and Earth will burn them down. Nothing but ashes in the stars, that's what will become of the Cylon race." D'Anna said sorrowfully.

"Maybe that's what we deserve, I hope not. We killed them because we hated them, and they used us." Conoy said with a little laugh. "But our Colonial cousins were always honest in that hate. We always knew how they felt and what they did to us. Cavil. Cavil hated us too, and he used us. He hated us because he hated himself, he hated that we could never be as important to the Final Five as the Human Race was. So he used us D'Anna, in a way that was worse than anything the Humans had ever done. We covered the galaxy in blood, we committed a sin that even the darkness of space will never be able to completely cover, and we did it for a lie. I want them to burn D'Anna. I want that entire line to burn, every one of those bastard ones. There is something very wrong with them, something that doesn't deserve to exist. I just hope that the Tau'ri can tell the difference between the ones and the rest of us. I hope they can tell that we were the victims here as well."

"It's in God's hands." The Three said, as a single tear ran down her cheek.

"No, sister. It's in Earth's hands."

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Angela snorted softly. "Like I said, direct. Very well, where shall we begin? Shall we start on possible planets for your people, as well as the requirements that come with becoming a member world? Or shall we start with the Cylon situation, you did invoke the President regarding them, so I can only assume that you would like to start there?"

"Yes I did invoke the President, and your assumption would be a safe one." Laura replied with a tight smile.

"Very well. The Tau'ri government has officially decided to grant the request by the Cylon Commune for political asylum within the borders of the Tau'ri Republic. As we speak one of my subordinates is notifying the Cylon representatives of this decision. But you expected that, didn't you?" Angela asked as she took a sip of tea.

"You're making a huge mistake. You don't know what you're dealing with."

"Perhaps. But I would tell you that it's you that doesn't quite realize what you are dealing with. Who do you think we are Madame President? I read the report that Stanley forwarded. You and yours have on numerous occasions referred to us as the Thirteenth Tribe or Colony. Where exactly do you think we fit into your view of the universe?" Angela said as she put down her cup.

"You're us, you're from Kobol just like us. You may not be the Thirteenth Tribe, but your human and that means you came from the same place we did. If I had to guess, I'd say lost ships that became separated from the main Exodus Fleet." Laura replied.

"Kobol, the home world of humanity, the world where the gods walked among us?"

"Yes." Laura smiled. "You do remember."

"Kobol, where the gods split humanity into tribes and sent us out into space to work for them? Or Kobol, where the gods fought a war for our souls and forced us to leave afterwards, because we were wicked?"

"The latter." Laura frowned softly. "You don't know the complete story of the Exodus?"

"On the contrary, I know your story very well. Dozens of worlds have similar stories, others have completely different ones." Angela replied.

"I don't understand." Laura said.

"I know you don't, not yet. You're right about all of us coming from the same place, but that place isn't Kobol. Do you know what Tau'ri means?" Delies asked. Laura returned a blank stare, so Angela continued. "It means 'those from the first world', it's a title that was given to us by the other inhabitants of this Galaxy. It's also a title bestowed on us by the Goa'uld, more on them in a moment. There are thousands of worlds that have incomplete histories, they're knowledge goes back only a few thousand years at most. Does that sound familiar?"

"What are you talking about?" Laura asked indignant.

Angela slowly nodded as if Laura's reaction had confirmed what she was saying. "Do you know why your history is incomplete on your worlds, your Colonies, doubtless Kobol as well?" Angela asked rhetorically. "Because other than a few thousand years of history on those worlds, all your other history was denied to you. Every bit of your history prior to that, your very birthright was forbidden to you."

"What birthright would that be?" Laura asked beginning to feel the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

Angela looked at her with something akin to pity in her eyes. "Earth, Earth is your birthright. Every single human being in this galaxy has the same birthright. Your ancestors were taken from here, just like every other human out there."

"Your wrong. The gods…"

" The gods were parasites, aliens. They came to this world thousands of years ago and abducted our people. They took these displaced people as slaves and used them to build themselves individual empires out among the stars. Some of these Goa'uld had a single planet, the most powerful ones had hundreds, and they called themselves the System Lords. They're standard way of controlling these abducted primitive people was to masquerade as numerous different deities from Earth's history. They were constantly fighting each other, constantly trying to show their dominance over each other. They vied for dominance while we died worshipping them. Ra, Apophis, Baal, Ares, the list goes on."

Laura caught her breath at the mention of Ares.

Angela instantly zeroed in on Laura's reaction. "Zeus, Hera, Ares, Demeter, do these names sound familiar to you?"

The glare that Roslin bestowed upon her was all the answer that Angela needed.

"I know you don't want to hear it, I know you won't even accept it, not yet at least. But in time you will. Earth and humanity are intertwined, we can trace ourselves back millions of years, right here on this world."

"Your telling me that man came from here?" Laura practically hissed.

"This version of man, yes"

"What?"

"Another name for us is Terran, before there was Terran there was Alterran. Humanity first ventured into space, in one form or another, over a million years ago. That's who you are Laura Roslin, President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol." Delies said.

Laura went pale, she felt fury at what she had just been told. Then she felt an absolute horror grip her, what if it were true? What if her beliefs were false? She had always been secular, like most Capricans in her beliefs, more agnostic then atheist. She had embraced religion only recently. Having your worlds blown to the hells had that effect on people, she thought in an almost hysterical fashion. "You expect me to believe that?"

"In time yes."

"What…what happened to these aliens?" Roslin managed.

All things considered, she was taking it well, Angela mused. "The most powerful ones were known as System Lords, the most powerful System Lord was called Ra, he was their supreme leader. He was, we believe, over twelve thousand years old." Angela paused for a second. "He ended up on the wrong end of an Earth built nuclear weapon. War, real war broke out among the remaining System Lords, each one vying for his throne. While they were busy weakening each other, we were busy killing them. We turned their subjects against them, we liberated their worlds, we pushed those parasites to the brink."

"I can't accept this."

"You can and you will, you've already proven that you have the strength and intelligence to accept the facts. Those facts are out there Laura, on this world, and out there on hundreds of former Goa'uld worlds. If you want you'll get the chance to see those facts for yourself, make up your own mind." Angela said.

"So you're not going to force me to accept your beliefs, to stop venerating the Lords of Kobol?"

"Of course not, one of the most important rights in the Republic is the right to freedom of religion. Pray how you will and to whom you will, or pray to no one at all. It's your choice." Angela said.

"I need to see this for myself, I need to know."

"I understand, it's a lot to take in. Do you want to call a recess?" Angela asked.

"No, no we need to continue this, the people are more important than any doubts I may have."

"As you wish." Angela replied impressed with the amount of mental reserves that the Colonial woman was showing. Having your world view turned upside down in moments was never easy, and Angela had seen quite a few people fold in the same circumstances.

"The Cylons." Laura began.

"The Cylons will be allowed to emigrate to a world in Ida, they will surrender their ship and weapons. They will be allowed to integrate into an existing society, one that has agreed to accept them. They're not the first AI based species we have dealt with; in fact, they are more clone than they are machine. We will be fine, it's not false pride that drives my words, its knowing our capabilities. We will settle your people here in the Milky Way, the Cylons will literally be a galaxy away." Angela said with conviction.

"Settle us where?" Laura asked.

"You have a choice, the Republic on average is settling a half dozen worlds a year. Seven newly discovered worlds have recently cleared all requirements for settlement, three of them are here in the Milky Way. Normally a complex auction style system with sealed bids are used to decide which group will get which world." Angela said as she sipped her tea.

"An auction? Like with money?" Laura asked surprised.

"No, not that type." Angela laughed. "The bids usually deal with amount of resources or trade goods that will be sent to the central government for a set number of years, along with an agreed upon tax rate. For example, one group may bid on a world and state that they will provide so many megatons of minerals per year, or apples, or whatever they plan on producing, for x number of years. They may offer a four percent tax rate for fifty years on top of the normal ten percent rate that all planets pay. Another may offer a six percent tax rate for only twenty years but offer more minerals. The best realistic bid wins and gets the planet. In any case all new planets will receive a tax exemption from the central government for the first twenty-five years, and during that time they are entitled to financial aid, as well as grants and low interest or no interest loans. The first twenty-five years is about helping the new colony develop and mature. They are free to set up their own government, write and enforce their own laws, print their own money, and so on. The only real requirements are that they need to accept and enforce the Republic Constitution, that includes freedom of religion, and rights of sentient beings. They are also required to enforce all Republic laws. Many of the systems and planets maintain their own system defense forces. Those forces, in time of a Republic emergency, can be called up to support the Federal forces. Each planet is also required to send a representative to the lower house of Congress and another to the upper house." Angela paused for a moment. "Do you think you can work within this framework?"

"Yes, we can do that." Laura answered.

"Good, your people have been through hell, so the Secretary of Colonial Affairs has granted you a special dispensation. Pick your world, no competing bids, we just need to agree on a fair deal."

"On minerals and such?" Laura asked.

"Yes, but I believe that General O'Neill is presenting a deal to your Admiral Adama that will almost certainly be added to anything we decide here, provided you agree to it." Angela said.

"What sort of deal?" Laura asked.

"One that involves the _Galactica_ I believe, honestly that particular discussion is being directed by the Mountain." Angela said.

"The Mountain?" Laura had a truly perplexed look on her face as she asked.

"Cheyanne Mountain in Colorado used to be one of the most important military installations in the world, although now it's part of a gargantuan complex that includes what used to be called Fort Carson. It's the seat of power for the Republic Military. It's got a pretty officious name as well, Combined Forces Military Command and Administration, but everybody calls it the Mountain." Angela smiled.

Just then the door opened unannounced and her senior aide came in. Angela frowned at the interruption, her aide would not have interrupted unless it was extremely important.

"Excuse the interruption Ambassador, but Mr. Witward is on the line for you." Her aide said.

"Can it wait Leola?"

"You need to take this right now Ma'am, it is a very serious development?" Leola answered.

Angela turned back to Laura. "Excuse the interruption I'll be back momentarily."

"Of course."


	6. Chapter 6

Thank you to everyone that sent their best wishes, it is very much appreciated. Also I want to take the time to thank all the people that reviewed the Story. I, of course, read each one. They are a good motivation for me.

Now I gave fair warning in the last chapter. I am a closet Nerd. And I believe in developing a story. Techno babble is part of my writing style, I think it strengthens the story. Having said that I was so worried about this Chapter being a bit too much on the Techie side that I solicited Albertg as well as LoneWolf1968s, opinion on this Chapter. I actually hope it stimulates discussion regarding the CA433s capabilities, bear in mind she is a Heavy Cruiser only. I plan on some point in putting a kind of Ship recognition manual out there, something similar to Janes. Now for those that would ask me if I think she might be a bit overpowered. I would answer that question with one of my own…. Compared to what?

Thanks for taking the time to read my story, enjoy.

 _I own neither Stargate nor Battlestar Galactica. Any original ideas and technology, use of technology, as well as the narrative and the situations that appear within this story are my own. This story cannot be used to garner any type of monetary reward or payment. Enjoy the Fic._

Chapter 6

Adama refrained from whistling softly as he listened to the briefing being delivered by a Tau'ri Commander, that had been introduced to him as the Engineering Officer. Captain Miyake had taken them aft to what she called Main Drive Two. When he had first entered he had been impressed by the size of the compartment, it was easily forty meters long and three decks high. Two large cylindrical structures were located in the compartment one to each side, both were surrounded by scaffolding and walkways that provided access to them. Adama estimated that they were about seven to eight meters in diameter and ran the length of the compartment. Interspersed between the cylinders were a half-dozen semi-circular workstations, each one manned by an enlisted rating, a Senior Chief was located on a raised dais sitting at a small console and keeping an eye on his people.

"What you see here Admiral, are two of the primary Gravitic Tunnel Drives, or GTDs for short. Basically Sir, a gravitic sleeve or tunnel is maintained within each cylinder. At the aft end of the tube a super dense body is maintained within a mount that allows limited movement, we're talking femto-meters of play. At the other end of the cylinder a tame singularity is produced. When the singularity is created the SDB, or super dense body 'falls' or is pulled towards it. How much pull is exerted is based on how much power is applied. Now the singularities are generated at a fixed point within the Gravitic tunnel and are slightly out of phase with local space-time, therefore they are not part of the ship's structure. Now the scale is wrong but you can think of the singularity as a normal black hole in space and the SDB as a planet falling towards it."

"And the ship is the planet?" Adama asked, surprise evident in his voice.

"You could think of the ship as attached to the planet and pulled along with it. There are a total of Eight GTDs on a CA433 class. A total of four drive rooms, each one three decks high, and each one sitting inside an armored citadel within the hull, which is itself heavily armored." The EO paused for a second to gather his thoughts.

"Maneuvering is simple, as the pilot manipulates his controls, power is applied to the GTDs, if we were going straight it would be equal power application to all of the drives. If he wants to turn, say to port, then the power to the individual GTDs would be varied based on the inputs coming from his controls. End result Sir, is that the ship is chasing a singularity that it can never catch. The drive allows for some very tight maneuvering." The engineer stated with obvious pride in his voice.

"How tight?" Adama asked.

"The _Suffren_ , like all Republic vessels is equipped with an inertia less field, this almost completely negates the effects of inertia on the ship, as a result she tends to maneuver more like an old style atmospheric fighter."

"What sort of speed and acceleration are we talking about?" Adama asked.

"Near instantaneous acceleration to a maximum speed, in the case of the 433 class, of .267C in real space Sir. Prior to the GTD, Earth built ships utilized a high powered Ion engine design. One of the hallmarks of Tau'ri designs has always been high maneuverability. The GTD is an evolutionary design that was based on some old Goa'uld designs and theoretical work done on Earth. What you see before you is a system that is far more advanced than anything that came before it." The Commander replied.

Adama thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head. " _Galactica's_ top speed is .03C." Adama paused for a second before continuing. "The amount of G-forces that the ship must experience, how do you compensate for that?"

"G-forces acting on the ship are minimized, typically to 1g of force through the internal gravity control systems. No Tau'ri ship has ever suffered failure of the primary system, but just in case there are an additional three systems with independent power supplies acting as backups. Abrupt force applied from random vectors, such as say weapons fire can cause feedback to be delivered through the hull. So if you get hit hard enough you will feel it."

"The power requirements must be insane." Adama stated more than asked.

"They are high, Sir. If you will follow me forward toward the power rooms I'll give you an overview of the power generation systems onboard the _Suffren_." The EO replied.

Adama turned toward the Chief of the Watch. "Chief, thank you for letting me get in the way of your people. A real eye opening experience."

The Chief stood as he replied. "Thank you Sir. Please feel free to drop by anytime."

As they walked forward toward Power Room Three, Miyake couldn't help but grin at the look on the Admiral's face.

Adama took note of Miyake's smile and returned it. "I must look like a country rube to you." He said as he shook his head.

"Not at all Sir, technology is technology, how we use it is the mark of an individual. The only difference between the _Suffren_ and the _Galactica_ is the level of tech. I don't think that too many people would have been able to do what you did Sir. So no, you don't look like a country rube to me. You look like a hero." Miyake replied solemnly.

Adama met Miyake's eyes and simply said; "Thank you."

Commodore Castula took note of the exchange between the Admiral and the Captain of the _Suffren_. Miyake was young, forty-two to be precise, nearly half her own age. So Castula could see if Natsuki were subject to a certain level of hero-worship. Castula herself was a little more jaded, she was a Traveler, she had spent most of her early life hiding and running from the Wraith in deep space. There were times she closed her eyes and could still see ships in her clan being torn apart by a remorseless enemy, bodies of friends scattered to the deep of space. That had been her whole life. Miyake, on the other hand, had been born on Earth and she had never had to suffer that, she had been blessed with a peaceful life. Adama had more in common with her then he ever would with Miyake, so maybe that was why Castula wasn't quite so smitten. Of course it was possible that she was a little jealous of Adama, Castula thought. After all, unlike the Travelers, he had turned back and stabbed his enemy in the heart.

The Commodore slowly shook her head. "You don't need to say thank you Admiral. You earned it."

It was approximately a five-minute walk to the Power Room. During the walk the Tau'ri officers did their best to field the questions that the Colonial Admiral asked. From Adama's point of view most of what he was hearing was going over his head, and he realized that he would need to do a lot of catching up if he ever planned on fitting in.

"Sir." Adama brought his attention back to the EO. "This is Power Room Three, the _Suffren_ has a total of three power rooms. Two and Three are both Neutrino Ion-Pulse Generators or NPGs for short, Room One is a Zero-Point Module generator or ZPM."

"I see the Earth military is just as much in love with acronyms as the Colonial Navy was." Adama said with a smile.

"I think the Engineers do it to remind us just how smart they are compared to us lowly mortals." Castula remarked with a smile.

The EO waited politely for the two Flag Officers to finish before continuing. "The NPGs provide primary power for all ship functions, the ZPM is for power on demand and is normally on standby. Now the NPGs function by…"

For the next fifteen minutes Adama was bombarded by terms and numbers he really did not understand, despite his level best to follow the descriptions given to him. He waited till the EO had completed his overview of the power systems before asking his questions. "How much power do the systems produce, Commander?

"Sir, the NPGs at peak output produce 281 Terawatts of power each. Since the ship is at station keeping this generator is currently running at three percent capacity, the other is at standby." The ZPM can best be described as a huge capacitor or battery, at standard output it releases 192 Terawatts of power. We also maintain a back-up system of ten Naquadah MkVIIB Reactors dispersed around the ship. The NRs are run in series and produce a peak power output of 89 Terawatts." The EO took note of the glassy eyed look that the Admiral was giving him. "I know Sir, pretty dry stuff huh. No one other than engineers are really interested in total power output."

"No, not all EO, I' m just trying to understand what all that power can possibly be needed for." Adama stated.

"The hyperdrive engines mostly Sir, Shields can be extremely energy demanding as well. And of course Sir, the weapon systems on this ship are always power hungry." The EO replied.

"Absolutely incredible."

"Which brings us to the fun part of the tour, Sir." Miyake said with a grin. "Would you like to see the _Suffren's_ teeth?"

VIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIV

The gig from the _Canarias_ was holding a tight trail formation with the AS416 Assault shuttle that was leading it toward the _Celestra_. Six F401Cs were flying in tight formation around both craft. The Warcat fighters, another fighter in the famed great cats' series, had been launched by the newly arrived _Triumph_. The CVL461 and its two escorts had been detached from a Carrier Squadron and attached to Cruiser Squadron 1201 to provide Fighter Support.

Onboard the gig Admiral Cordoba leaned over to take a good solid look at her destination, she had chosen to fly over instead of simply beaming over. Milena had simply wanted to take a good look at the Colonial Fleet with her own two eyes. She was also taking the chance to get an idea of the general condition of the hangars on the ships her shuttles were expected to use. The 416 was carrying a full Platoon of Marines from her Flagship, her Flag Captain flatly refusing to let her go without, what he called, a proper escort. Milena chuckled softly, her Flag Captain tended to act more like an overprotective father then he did a subordinate. She had readily agreed to meet with the Colonial's version of a congress after Captain Roehn had contacted her. The ongoing civil unrest within the Remnant Fleet was worrisome but she really wasn't convinced it warranted armed intervention on her part. She would have to see what the Quorum members had to say before making a decision either way. The two transport lined up for their final approach to the _Celestra_ , the six Warcats peeled off and began circling the Colonial tramp freighter.

The Quorum was currently waiting nervously in the hangar, Admiral Hoshi, Captain Roehn, and most worryingly of all a Cylon Six were waiting on the Tau'ri Admiral. The Two shuttles landing side by side provided quite a contrast for the Colonial observers. They were able to view both crafts from behind thick glass as they waited for the hangar doors too close and the area to pressurize. The smaller of the two was elegant and sleek, almost artistic in its looks. The larger of the two was anything but elegant, it was, simply put, a brute. Some type of turreted weapons poked out of the bottom of the craft, as well as an additional top mounted one. The craft gave off a generally menacing air just sitting there. Surprised they watched as the rear of the larger craft opened up before the hangar had completed its repressurization cycle. Armed Tau'ri Marines came out of the craft and took up security positions around both crafts. The Marines seemed to be wearing the same light armor that Cpt. Roehns Soldiers wore, the only visible difference being a fully enclosed helmet that had a visor eerily reminiscent of an early Cylon Centurion.

With the loud sounding of a buzzer the large hatch to the hangar opened up as pressure was finally equalized. Roehn led the way into the large area and waited patiently as one of the armored Tau'ri Marines walked up to him. The watching Colonials gasped as suddenly the helmet the Marine was wearing retracted completely and seemed to disappear behind the Marine's head.

The Marine saluted Roehn, who dutifully returned it. "Captain Roehn? I'm Lieutenant Salih, is the area secure Sir?"

"It is Lieutenant; my two Soldiers are holding position in the hallway outside. Roehn replied.

"Thank you Sir." Salih responded before keying his miniature headset and reporting all clear to the Gig.

The hatch in the Gig opened up and Admiral Cordoba disembarked, she paused for a second taking a look at the generally worn looking hangar, before walking toward the gathered group. Hoshi and Roehn both saluted her and she returned the courtesy, before shaking hands with both of them.

"Admiral, please allow me to introduce the Quorum of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol." As the introductions were made Milena made a point of looking into each and every person's eyes. Some had hope written in them, others had something else, fear perhaps? She would have to inquire as to the reasoning behind that she decided. The last member introduced was a dark skinned graying women, who exuded confidence.

"Admiral welcome to our little part of the galaxy, I'm Priscilla Danishe."

"A pleasure. Are you per chance the senior member?" Cordoba inquired.

"Well I'm certainly the most vocal." Priscilla responded with a light laugh.

"Admiral, if I may I'd like to introduce the senior Cylon present?" Roehn asked.

The Admiral noticed the flicker of anger that appeared and disappeared on Danishe's face at the mention of the Cylon. Inwardly she sighed, it appeared Captain Roehn's reports to her had been dead on regarding the deterioration in the relationships between Colonial and Cylon.

Milena turned and shook hands with the striking Cylon woman. The Admiral noted that her eyes held something else, apprehension perhaps?

"Captain please lead the way; I am sure we are all anxious to resolve the issues currently facing this fleet." Milena said.

Roehn led the way as a squad from the Marine Platoon fell into step around them, Roehn's two Soldiers preceded them to the Quorum Chambers, ensuring that the way was clear.

As they walked the halls the Tau'ri Admiral took note of the general maintenance level of the _Celestra_ , it served to confirm the mental image that she had developed. The Remnant Fleet really was on its last legs.

The Group entered the Quorum chambers and Cordoba was seated at a small table with both Hoshi and Roehn flanking her. Interestingly enough the Cylon was not provided a seat. The Marines took station around the room, with the LT standing just behind and to the side of the Admiral.

The Six took note of the slight and turned a questioning look at the Quorum.

"We thought that this should be a purely human meeting." Neath, the Aerilon representative said.

"When you were running for your lives and desperate you had no problem with us sitting at your table." The Six pointed out.

"Yes well you said it yourself, we were desperate, what we need to discuss is a family matter. You're not family and you're not welcome here. Please leave." The Virgon representative said.

The Six turned toward the military officers seeking aid. Roehn for his part wanted to say something, but Cordoba was silent and he took his cue from her. Hoshi on the other hand had no such concerns, and he dove in feet first.

"So we've forgotten how to show gratitude? We've certainly forgotten who was protecting our people while the _Galactica_ was gone." Hoshi said.

"On the contrary, we haven't forgotten anything, anything at all." Beth Parker practically hissed as she stared into the eyes of the Six. "What we have to say would best be said without that thing being in here."

"They are a part of this Fleet, and by the gods they have a right to be here. I can't believe you were so ready to accept their help at one point, and now simply discard them like garbage first chance you get. You used them." Hoshi said.

"No your wrong Admiral, they used us. Used us to get to Earth! That was their plan the whole time." Linder stated with emotion.

"What! What are you saying." The Six, caught off guard asked.

"Yes, what exactly are you saying?" Admiral Cordoba now asked as well.

The Quorum members looked back and forth among themselves before Priscilla finally spoke. "We believe that the Cylons used this fleet to find Earth, with the intention of attacking and destroying you."

"What!" The Six thundered. She turned toward Cordoba and took a step towards her. "You can't seriously believe…"

The Six instantly froze as the Marine LT took a step forward and whipped his hand to his sidearm. Fast, very fast, faster than even she could move. She moved her eyes from his hand and brought them up to his face, he showed absolutely no emotion and his eyes were locked on her. She slowly put her hands to the side palms forward.

Six took a deep breath. "That's a lie, we have no intention of attacking you or anyone else."

Cordoba looked away from the blond Cylon and addressed the Quorum. "Those are very serious charges. What proof do you have?"

Priscilla looked to the Quorum for support and then began her story. She covered everything Beth had said. She recounted the following of the Scrolls. She talked about how they had found the Arrow, and the fact that the Cylons had been there first. She told Cordoba about the strange circumstances surrounding the beacon in the Lion's Head Nebula, and the dead machine world. Beth and the other Quorum members fleshed out the story as Priscilla talked.

Admiral Cordoba listened quietly, not a hint of emotion showing on her face. Twenty minutes later the Quorum had finished their story and she leaned back in her chair. She resisted the urge to rub her eyes, and instead turned toward the Cylon woman waiting intently for the Tau'ri Admiral's reaction.

"Is this true, Miss?" Cordoba asked.

"No, no. They hate us Admiral. We helped them, bled alongside them. We would not have done that if we had any intentions of hurting anyone." The Six said desperately.

"I believe you." The Admiral said quietly.

"That's it? You can't be serious Admiral?" Abelnath said in outrage.

"Admiral please consider that Baseship out there has the capability of laying waste to your entire planet, it is carrying very powerful nuclear weapons. At the very least shouldn't you take precautions to ensure that they can't do anything?" Priscilla asked.

Cordoba really did think that the Colonial charges against the Cylon Rebels was a ridiculous conspiracy theory, but the fact was the Colonials believed it. She had to take steps to reassure them, while not alienating the Cylons at the same time.

"Ma'am, I appreciate your concern for both Earth and my ships, but I assure you that we can handle any threat that could possibly be offered by that ship out there." Milena said with confidence.

"How can you possibly know that, Admiral. We had more ships than you, our ships were powerful as well, and they completely neutralized them. In the end they were nothing more than floating targets. Our confidence, our pride was as much to blame for what happened as anything else." Neath said.

Cordoba turned her attention to the Aerilon representative. "It isn't pride, but it is confidence." Mr. Neath. "We scanned the Baseship when we first detected it, that ship is currently carrying forty-seven nuclear warheads in the twenty kiloton range. Believe me when I tell you that if every single one of those warheads hit even one of my smaller ships, they would fail to even scratch her." Cordoba paused, and made it a point to meet the eyes of each and every member of the Quorum, before continuing. "You come from a culture that's version of total war constitutes destroying cities, I come from one that destroys worlds."

"Ms. Six, is it? As I said earlier I believe you, but I can also understand their concerns. Perhaps the best thing to do is to surrender your nuclear weapons. I give you my word as an officer that no harm will befall you or your people." Milena paused for a second and turned toward the Quorum. "So we understand each other, I was informed before I came here that Earth has decided to provisionally grant the Cylon's request for asylum. Therefore, my responsibility for security extends to them as well. You people don't like each other; given your history I can understand that." Milena held up her hand as one of the Quorum members began to speak. "As I said I understand, I am not defending or even pretending to understand what the Cylons did, but that is for my government to decide. I simply carry out their policy."

Admiral Cordoba paused for a second before continuing. "I came here to try and resolve the ongoing issues in regards to civil disobedience that are occurring within this fleet. Based on just this conversation I think it would be best if my troops assisted your Marines in securing your ships. It is becoming clear to me that the food riots are only part of the problem here. I can't force you to separate yourselves, much less reach some type of détente. But I urge you to do nothing rash, with luck both of your peoples will be on their way to their respective destinations soon."

Roehn found himself nodding in complete agreement with the Admiral. "Ma'am if I may?" At a nod from Cordoba he addressed both parties. "When I first arrived here I was surprised at the level of cooperation that your two sides exhibited. From what I understand you survived these last few months because you put aside your differences to do so. I understand that you will probably never forgive each other, but in the spirit of what you once had, that cooperation that saw you survive where others would have failed I urge you to stop. Just stop trying to find reasons to try and kill each other, and start trying to live again. Your both safe, Earth has guaranteed your safety, all you have to do is control your hate. Because if you can't bury your hate you will eventually bury each other."

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Admiral Adama had a chance to inspect the crew's quarters onboard the _Suffren._ By Colonial standards the accommodations were down right decadent. He was surprised to find that junior crew members were bunked two to a room. The _Galactica_ had large barrack style rooms for its crew. Another interesting difference between the two ships, was the fact that the cruiser had different hygienic facilities for the female and male members of its crew. He could understand how that was good for discipline, if not necessarily morale, Adama thought ruefully. The ship's bridge was interesting, apparently the Ship's command systems were located there, and that was the Captain's station during combat, the CIC on the other hand was the XO's place of duty during action stations.

"Admiral Adama, I'd like to introduce Lieutenant Commander Furtac, my gunnery officer. We just call him 'Guns'." Miyake said.

Adama returned to the present and sized up the big Commander standing in front of him, he was about a half-head taller than the Admiral. What stood out most about the Commander was the fact that he had a black tattoo in the center of his forehead. A tribal or family mark perhaps?

"If you don't mind my asking what does the symbol represent?" Adama asked.

Furtac smiled. "In the past my people were held in bondage, and we were required to bear the mark of our allegiance to the false ones. This mark on the other hand." And here Furtac touched the mark, that looked like a capital I with a forty-five-degree line coming from it. "Represents freedom, all Jaffa now proudly wear it to proclaim to the universe our status as free."

Adama smiled at the big Jaffa. Ironic he thought, thinking of the Cylons and what had happened to them.

"Guns, please walk the Admiral through the weapon systems on the _Suffren_." Miyake said.

"It would be my pleasure Captain. Admiral we are currently standing in the CIC or Combat Information Center of the _Suffren._ Now before I begin I just wanted to touch on Tau'ri doctrine in regards to ship design. We maintain fleets in three galaxies, now the threats that exist in the Pegasus Galaxy are very different than the ones in Ida for example. As a result, the design and weapons fits in certain designs may be more biased toward those kinds of threats. The Milky Way designs on the other hand tend to be more generalist, they tend to have a more balanced approach. Now having said that the Navy is a big believer in not putting all its eggs in one basket, this comes as a result of our discovering enemies that were resistant to certain weapons while being susceptible to others." Furtac walked over to a large circular table which activated as he approached it.

Adama watched as a three-dimensional image of a shield with gray and red stripes appeared over the table. At a command from Furtac a beautiful rendition of the _Suffren_ sprang into existence.

"As you can see here Admiral this is the _Suffren_ , she is a Block two CA433 class heavy cruiser designed and built by Newport Iron Works here in the Sol System. The _Suffren_ herself was built at the Mars orbital yards. She is the sixty-fifth ship of her class to be launched." Furtac paused for a second inviting questions. When none were forthcoming from the enraptured Admiral he continued.

"I'd like to call your attention to the large turrets located on her outer sponsons, these are improved Ion Disrupter Cannons." As he spoke the turrets in question flashed. "not to be mistaken with the older Tollan style guns, these are based on Asgard technology. They fire an extremely energetic pulse of Ions that impart kinetic energy as well as energetic particle. A total of four single turrets, this weapon is extremely effective against shields and is capable of shearing the molecular bonding of atoms at the subatomic level. Originally this weapon was designed for use on the old O'Neill class dreadnought. It proved an extremely effective weapon against the Replicators. On that old ship these were fixed forward firing mounts, we improved on the pre-fire chambers as well as the power supply trunks. These changes allowed us to shorten the weapons and mount them in a turret providing 180 degrees worth of rotation. We did this with only a slight loss in destructive output. Maximum effective range is fourteen light seconds, after that the ion packets begin to lose cohesion, and rapid power loss occurs."

'This is an energy weapon?" Asked Adama in surprise.

"Yes Sir. Most of the weapon types on this ship, with two notable exceptions, are energy based." Furtac answered him.

"Now the IACs, or Improved Asgard Cannons are plasma stream weapons, they have a powerful punch. These weapons fire a steady stream of highly energized plasma on a relatively small focal point. At one time this weapon was fully capable of destroying most ships, even with shields, in a few hits. The weapon is still considered one of the most powerful available, when it comes to mass versus output. A total of two ventral and two dorsal twin turrets, two of them mounted aft and two forward. These weapons are extremely energy dependent, and have a relatively slow rate of fire. These are excellent weapons when we are targeting a few powerful ships. The secret to these are the fact that they deliver all that firepower to a specific point on the target, overwhelming its defenses. Maximum effective range for these beauties are twelve light seconds" Again Furtac paused.

"The final energy based battery weapon that this cruiser carries are the 458mm Improved Plasma Projectors. These weapons are mounted in six twin turret, three ventral and the remaining ones on the dorsal area. These weapons are twice as large as the Plasma weapons mounted on the old Goa'uld Hatak class ships. But their size isn't their secret, rather the power distribution system allows for far more energetic blasts. While these weapons lack the singular punch of the Asgard beams they make up for it with their sheer volume of fire. The reason these weapons were created was the fact that the Ion and Asgard Beam weapons were excellent against single large targets but struggled against multiple ones. These babies address that problem with that high rate of fire."

"How high of a rate of fire are we talking about Guns?" Admiral Adama inquired.

"Top rate of fire is ninety bolts of highly energized plasma per tube per minute. Since these things are mounted in a twin turret arrangement, that is one hundred and eighty bolts of pure destruction per turret at max rate of fire. The range for my babies here Admiral is eight light seconds." Guns finished with a huge grin.

"Frak me." Adama said softly.

"Sir?" Guns asked.

"You said these were the last of your energy based weapons, so there are more?" Adama asked, embarrassed at his profanity.

"Yes Sir. Three more weapons system, and then I'll cover her defense capabilities. If that's ok?"

"By all means please continue." Adama said.

"We carry a single Drone launcher located on our ventral hull, a total of eight hundred and twenty-five drones. You can best think of the drones as a suicidal miniature missile that is capable of maintaining itself just out of phase in regards to the material universe. As a result of being out of phase the Drones can by-pass most shields and most materials, they then transfer their stored energy to the structure of the target. They will repeatedly attack a target until they have expended all of their energy. They are extremely precise and can be used to target subsystems on a target. They travel at .68C and are exceedingly hard to intercept. Their range is over twenty light seconds."

Adama whistled softly.

"I know Sir, a lot to take in and pretty dry stuff. I apologize for that." The Jaffa officer said.

"Nothing to apologize for Commander, if I didn't want to hear it I wouldn't be here. Please continue." Adama said.

"Yes Sir. The final two systems are the simplest, but are also potentially the most devastating weapons we are equipped with. The first one is the Mk 152 launcher system. This is a modular missile silo system." Guns began.

"Finally something I recognize." Adama said with a smile.

Guns smiled before continuing. "The beauty of the Mk 152 is the fact that you can mount anywhere from four to eighty cells based on the size of the ship as well as it's designed mission. Also the depth of the hull has a direct effect on the number of reloads carried. In the case of the 433 class we have thirty-one decks so that allows a total of fourteen preloaded missiles in separate canisters per cell. We carry a single 40 cell system. That translates into a total of five hundred and sixty missiles of a number of different types." Guns said proudly.

"Preloaded canisters?" Adama asked.

"Yes Sir. The canisters are stacked on top of each other in the individual cells, each cell is allocated a specific type of missile. Ever since the old Mk 141 VLS mounted on the _Ticonderoga_ Class wet Navy Cruiser, missile launchers have not been reloaded. There is no reload room with a bunch of missiles sitting in the open, potentially waiting to turn a lucky enemy shot into a catastrophe. Since this ship's primary mission is one of power projection, twenty-five of our cells are loaded with anti-ship missiles. That gives us three hundred and fifty anti-ship missiles."

"What are the specifications for those missiles Guns?"

"The anti-ship missile is called the Javelin. Each Javelin carries a single naquadah enhanced nuclear warhead, with a yield of 1.2 Gigatons of directed energy. The missile is equipped with a high yield Grav drive and can achieve a speed of .71C to a powered range of eleven and a half light minutes."

The yield as well as the range of the missiles was so far beyond anything in Adama's experience that he almost missed exactly what the Tau'ri officer had said. "What do you mean by directed energy?"

"As you know sir, most of a nuclear warheads effects are dispersed in the vacuum of space. Nuclear weapons are far less destructive in space then they would be in atmosphere. As a result, Alliant General, the makers of the Javelin took a page from the past. Just prior to impact the missile activates an internal high energy force field to the rear of the warhead. The generator is vaporized nano-seconds after the warhead detonates but it lasts long enough to funnel or direct the energy toward the front of the weapon. This greatly increases the shield and armor penetrating capabilities of the missile." The Commander finished.

"The final system is the PLAC. I am sure when you first approached the _Suffren_ that you took note of the large aperture weapon in our bow, correct Sir?" At a nod from Adama, Furtac continued.

"The PLAC is a 720mm Linear Array Cannon, the round is a super dense Trinium-Naquadah Carbon round. It is very dense and very tough and we carry a total of twenty-six rounds. The cannon accelerates the projectile to a speed of .82C and has no real range limit on it. Now the really nasty part of this weapon is the fact that the round is a phased round, this allows the round to pass through the target's shield and or armor before phasing back into reality. So imagine the effect on anything it hits." Furtac said

Adama was trying very hard to imagine why this ship needed to be so powerful.

At a subtle sign from his Captain, Furtac began to close out his briefing.

"Sir, our active defenses comprise twenty, seven-barreled 35mm laser turrets, with a rate of fire of 4 pulses per second, they act as our close in defenses out to 3 light seconds. Passive defenses include ECM, and ECCM systems as well as fourth generation shields that draw power directly from the ZPM. As such the shields are capable of repelling fire power equivalent to our own weapons. Shield failure is based on the amount of firepower received vs ability to replenish the generators. Those shields are phasic so they are effective against phase weapons. Finally, we have two and a half meters of Naquadah-Trinium Fullerene Armor on the outer hull. Internal citadels around important areas of the ship provides an additional meter's worth of armor. One of the biggest problems a number of our earlier ships had, was that after the shields failed the ships were quickly destroyed. The Fullerene Armor is extremely resistant to all forms of energy, including kinetic."

"Sir, pending your questions, this concludes my brief." Guns finished.

"By the gods Guns, that was an excellent brief. I'd like to thank you and your CIC gang for your time and patience." Adama said.

"Sir, the pleasure was all ours."

"Sorry for rushing you there at the end Sir. But General O'Neill and his party are scheduled to arrive within ten minutes." Natsuki commented.

"I understand Captain, as much as I want to spend more time in the CIC as well as talking to your crew, I think my head would explode if I stayed." Adama intoned.

Miyake smiled proudly as they made their way toward the Transport Compartment.

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Adama was led to a relatively small room, it was completely empty of furnishings or decoration other then what appeared to be a large circular opening in the overhead. About twenty members of the ships Company, all senior members were drawn up in formation. Captain Miyake and the Commodore stood before the formation and beckoned the Admiral alongside them.

"What's this Captain?" Adama asked curiously.

"This is the ring transport room Sir. It's one of the two matter transport systems that we have onboard this ship." Natsuki replied.

"Matter transport?" Adama began.

Just then the opening in the overhead irised open and a series of large rings dropped to the deck with a strange thrumming sound. A flash of light and the rings retracted leaving two people standing where no one had been a second earlier.

Adama caught his breath even as he was aware of the Ship's XO calling the formation to attention. "Home Fleet arriving!" The ship's intercom system blared out.

What in creation was that? Adama thought. For now, Adama filed his surprise as well as his questions away and instead stepped forward along with the Captain to meet the newly arrived full Admiral.

Adama waited patiently as the boarding a man-o-war ritual took place and then he was introduced to Admiral Sir Justin Cunningham.

"Admiral." The two men greeted each other as they shook hands and sized each other up. Both were impressed by what they saw and both broke into a grin at the same time.

"So how has your tour of the _Suffren_ been?" The Tau'ri Admiral asked.

"A very eye opening experience. If we had something like her back at the Colonies, I probably would not be here." Adama replied.

"My first squadron command was a cruiser one, the 433s are fine ships. The _Suffren_ has an excellent reputation as well, so you couldn't have asked for a better ship to tour." Cunningham said as he smiled, eliciting an answering smile from both Miyake and Castula.

The two Admirals continued their idle chit-chat as they waited for the arrival of their august guest from Earth. They were commenting on the fact that both of them had pilot's wings on their uniforms. Adama mentioning the fact he had started as a Viper pilot, while Cunningham told him of his earlier days in a Harrier. Interestingly enough the two men then began to try and one up each other with stories of their early adventures as junior officers. They were both laughing when Commodore Castula walked over to them.

"Sirs, I apologize for the interruption?" She began.

Cunningham turned toward her "No worries Iren, what is it?"

"Sir, signal from the Mountain. General O'Neill and his party are ready to ring onboard." She advised him.

"Very good, we best get ready then. General Rudenko is with him, don't want to listen to him talking about how slovenly the Navy is compared to his beloved Army now do we?" He asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Perish the thought Sir." Castula answered.

The formation was called back to attention and then the Rings reactivated. A small detachment of Army Security troops arrived scanning the area quickly they stepped aside as their leader, a Major keyed his headset and reported all clear. A moment later and General O'Neill and his party were onboard.

Adama's noticed quite a few things as he got his first look at the Tau'ri living legend. He was tall, had bright eyes with laugh lines. The man had a laid back air about him, but his eyes seemed to miss nothing. Overall the impression that Adama had, was of a man that was in total control at all times.

Adama shook hands with the General and noted the strong grip. "General, thank you for your assistance with my people and my ship."

O'Neill smiled as he replied. "No need to thank me Admiral. What kind of hosts would we be if we didn't help you? I've been to enough places in my life to know it pays to be a nice guy."

Adama smiled back and turned toward Rudenko. "Good to see you again."

"And you my friend. So are you enjoying yourself, or did the Navy bore you with their numbers and acronyms?" Rudenko replied.

"You forget I'm Navy myself, so it was anything but boring. The _Suffren_ and her crew did the Navy proud, I enjoyed myself immensely." Adama said feeling himself being drawn into the Army/Navy feud.

"Yet they still can't win a football game." Said O'Neill, eliciting a snicker from Rudenko and a round of denials from Admiral Cunningham.

As the Flag Officers were talking Miyake had a whispered conversation with her XO. Veladen promptly left to evict yet another department head from the wardroom table to make room for the unexpected civilian in General O'Neill's party.

The official party moved quickly to the wardroom, the crewmembers standing at attention alongside the passageway as they passed. Many of the crew having deliberately gone to that area of the ship to get a look at O'Neill as he passed.

The party arrived at the wardroom and were quickly settled, placards directing the various members to their respective seats. Captain Miyake as the ship's commander and host took her place at the head of the table and waited for her guests to settle, before nodding to a very nervous looking Ensign sitting at the table.

The Ensign stood and cleared his throat, taking a quick glance around the table, he took note of Admiral Cunningham in particular watching him closely. He gulped nervously fully aware that he had more brass staring at him then he had ever seen in a single room, much less waiting on him.

"Ladies and Gentlemen I would like to propose a toast." The Ensign said in a surprisingly steady voice. He waited as everyone charged their glass before continuing. "To the Tau'ri Republic, the President, and the Navy."

"Here, here." Everyone intoned. And with that dinner began.

Conversation quickly turned toward the Colonies and the Colonial Navy.

Adama fielded the questions as best he could between bites of an exquisite dish he had never had before. He had made it a point of not eating any Tau'ri food until he was sure that the Galactica and the Remnant Fleet had received supplies, so this was his first real taste.

"What is this Captain? Its exquisite."

"It's Chicken Cordon Bleu Sir, I will pass on your complements to the Chief." Miyake said with pleasure.

"General O'Neill, I have heard a great deal about you Sir." Adama began.

O'Neill looked up from his plate. "Don't believe everything you hear Admiral, all of it is exaggerated, well except for all of the heroic parts that probably did happen." O'Neill said with a self-deprecating smile.

"I heard a lot about you to. You made it out with everyone you could save, and you did it with one ship. Granted, it was a cool ship with some big honking space guns on it, but it was just the one ship." O'Neill said.

"I don't think I've ever heard the _Galactica_ described quite like that." Adama replied.

"The thing about General O'Neill, Bill is that he is rather unconventional in how he approaches things." Rudenko said.

"Well it's managed to keep me alive, usually, every now and then dying helped me refocus." O'Neill said.

Adama started to laugh and then realized that O'Neill wasn't laughing just looking at him over his glass. "You can't be serious, can you?"

"Usually I try not to be; life is boring otherwise. But as for dying, been there done that, more than once as a matter of fact." O'Neill said between bites.

"I guess I have a lot to learn." Adama said.

"You'd be surprised Admiral." Cunningham said.

"Getting back to the _Galactica,_ that ship did right by you." O'Neill said.

"She's a good ship, an older design, even by Colonial standards." Replied Adama taking note of the General's interest in the old _Columbia_ Class Battlestar. "Your ships are something else entirely General, something out of a sci-fi story. Why all the interest in the _Galactica_?"

O'Neill leaned back in his chair. "May I call you Bill?"

"Of course Sir."

"Well Bill, that's a good question, and I think that deserves a good answer." O'Neill turned toward the civilian that had accompanied him from Earth. "Mr. Hagan, the ball is in your court."

Adama turned his attention to the civilian that had been introduced to him as Miles Hagan. He was, Adama noted, a member of the same race as Shar.

"Admiral." Hagan began. "I'm the CEO for the Tech Con Group out of Hebridan. Shar Marshall, who is currently working on the _Galactica_ is one of my Senior Yard Masters. He's, or rather his report on the _Galactica_ , is the reason I'm here."

Adama shifted minutely in his seat, he felt as if he was about to receive bad news about a loved one.

"Admiral, have you in your brief time here heard about the SCS type ship?" Hagan asked.

"I can't say that I have Mr. Hagan." Adama responded.

"Well imagine a ship with almost as much firepower as this fine ship." Hagan paused and smiled at Miyake before continuing. "And carrying one hundred and twenty-eight aerospace fighters as well."

"That sounds an awful lot like the concept for a Battlestar." Adama said

"Yes it does, doesn't it." Hagan said with a smile. "And that's why I came to talk to you. Tech Con is best known for its civilian ships, we've produced smaller warships, primarily for system navies. The Tau'ri Navy, as it currently exists was built by three major corporations. Those corporations have a death-lock on the military market. Monopolies are all fine and good unless you happen to be on the outside looking in."

"And you are on the outside." Adama said with deep interest.

"And I am on the outside." Hagan confirmed. "But the _Galactica_ can change that."

"How so?" Adama asked.

"We, and by we, I mean Tech Con, would like to modify the _Galactica_ design to incorporate Tau'ri tech, and market it in direct competition to the SCS design."

Adama was deeply surprised by this twist of fate. "Why?"

"We need to break into the market and the Battlestar design is a design that can be competitive. The best thing about it is the fact that the basic design has a proven track record. Admiral, this would be a win-win situation for both of us. Tech Con would finally be able to break into the Capital ship market. In doing so we would build docks and production facilities in whatever system your people settled. We would bring jobs, for your people as well as immigration of highly trained and specialized personnel. All of whom would be paying taxes to your government. On top of that Tech Con is prepared to offer you a fifteen percent share in the Docks. That would be for payment in kind of the Battlestar design, class name, and any technology or derived technology onboard her." Hagan said.

Adama thought furiously, it was a very good deal, and would bring needed income to wherever the Colonials settled.

O'Neill took Adama's pensive posture for indecision and leaned forward. "From my point of view Admiral, we get a very tough ship, with an even better price tag on it. A ship that will help break a monopoly and drive the price of both the SCS and Battlestar designs down. A price range that a lot of poorer systems will be able to afford and should therefore buy. Every human member system that maintains a strong system Guard makes my job just that much easier. I'll even sweeten the pot for you."

"In what way General?"

"The Mountain is already paying for repairs to the _Galactica_ , we provide military economic support to some system and not to others. This is based on strategic location, or because those systems have valuable resources. I'll release funding to build an additional three Battlestars for the Colonial System Navy. After all, if your system is going to have major docks in it, then they need to be defended. I would rather not tie down Federal ships to do that." O'Neill said.

Adama was ecstatic with the evolving events, although you wouldn't be able to see it in his face. "Any deal we make here would be subject to the approval of my government." He began carefully. "However, I am very much inclined to agree to these terms."

As Miyake was listening to the discussion one of her stewards came over to her and whispered in her ear. Nodding her head and thanking the steward she turned back to the table.

"Excuse me General O'Neill, but we have just received a priority signal from the Mountain Sir. They ask that you contact them ASAP. If you wish Sir, you can use the secure system in my office." Miyake said.

"That would be fine Captain. Excuse me, we're probably out of blue Jell-O at the base commissary or something similar. Please continue, I'll be right back."


	7. Chapter 7

Hello all. A few quick notes. If I come across harsh I apologize ahead of time, not my intent. And I really do appreciate the comments, it does help my creativity. Oh also thanks for your patience I hope it's not boring.

First I want to thank each and every person that reviewed my story, it motivates me to continue writing. So thank you for that.

Second. I was expecting discussions regarding the capabilities of the CA433 class. So a few of my views on certain points. In regards to the speed of the vessel, while I am aware that at one point the stated speed of the BC303 was either .5 or .6 of light speed, different sources disagree on that point. The fact is that at that speed the ship would suffer from Einsteinian effects, time would slow for them. Also the ships in the Stargate franchise never even came close to that speed in the show. A good example would be when General Hammond ordered the pilot of the Prometheus to ram Anubis's ship. They went to max speed in Earth orbit and closed on the target, when the drones attacked Hammond was able to avoid the collision and all was good in the world. In reality at even .1 C as soon as the pilot pushed the throttle forward the Prometheus would have impacted Anubis. At the stated speed of the CA433 the Suffren could go from Earth to Mars in about eleven minutes. That's not slow. Not mention the fact that they would never need a higher sub-light speed when they could simply go to hyper at the touch of a button, in most cases. The armor. Just because the best armor in the show was the Wraith armor, that doesn't mean it was the best available. Fullerene is real, not a made up name. It has appeared in numerous mainstream Sci-fi as well. Fullerene is a carbon bonding that adds incredible strength to whatever substance it can bond with. Naquadah and Trinium fullerene would almost certainly be incredibly tough, after all the Stargate is made from Naquadah, and it requires a MK IX gatebuster to destroy one. So I would propose that a Trinium Naquadah alloy would be far tougher then simple Naquadah, throw fullerene on top of that and you see my point.

Third. The power output of the ZPM versus the NPG. The ZPM is more advanced. But being more advanced doesn't necessarily mean produces more output. The NPGs greater power but also happen to be approximately 50m long by 30m wide. The ZPM produces almost 70 percent of the NPGs output, but can be carried in your backpack. As for a few stating that the ship should have Pettawatt power since it seems underpowered, I would point out that the entire United States produced and used 6 terrawatts of power last year. So no I don't think the CA433 is underpowered.

 _I own neither Stargate nor Battlestar Galactica. Any original ideas and technology, use of technology, as well as the narrative and situations that appear within this story are my own. This story cannot be used to garner any type of monetary reward or payment. Enjoy the Fic._

Chapter 7

Laura sat quietly waiting for Delies to return, her calm exterior in direct contrast to the turmoil she felt within. It couldn't be, the Lords of Kobol, aliens? She remembered being young and attending Temple with her parents. They would always have lunch afterwards at a small café located next to the Temple of Zeus. Roslin could close her eyes and still smell the food, still remember her parents planning the rest of the week out. But even then she remembered asking her dad why they always went to temple on Monday, and not some other day. He had looked at her and told her with a smile; "Because our family's always gone on Monday, little bit." That was it, because our family has always done it. No question, no discussion, just because.

Was that why she continued to cling to her outrage, even though at one time she had been an avowed Agnostic? Was it simple bullheadedness? This was a new world, with different ways of doing things. Or perhaps this was the oldest world of all, Laura thought almost hysterically.

Laura shivered imperceptibly despite the comfortable temperature in the office. Abruptly she stood and began to pace around the office, anything to get her mind off of aliens and gods. She began to study the memorabilia that adorned the office walls, many were framed pictures. Some were of Delies meeting, what Laura assumed, were important people in the Tau'ri Republic. A few beautiful framed certificates were located in a small alcove and Laura moved toward them. They looked like they had been printed on old parchment and had exquisite wood frames around them. Laura paused in front of the first one and began to absently read it, as she read it she became more interested in what it said.

"Certificate of Commendation. Given in gratitude to Angela Delies for actions during difficult negotiations with the New Goa'uld Alliance. Your actions contributed directly to the saving of millions of lives, and the path to peace for countless others. Given by my hand on this date, the 27th of April 2023. Signed Renata Flores, President of the Tau'ri Republic."

Laura reached up to touch the Certificate, behind her the door opened and Delies reentered her office. Without turning around Laura began to speak. "You said the Goa'uld were evil, that they were killers and parasites. Why would you make peace with them? That doesn't make sense, if they were responsible for kidnapping so many people from here, why would you do that?"

"It's for precisely that reason that we made peace. We had killed so many of them, but we had to destroy legions of Jaffa to do it." Delies answered.

"Jaffa?" Laura asked as she turned around.

"A genetically altered human species, one that acted as walking incubators for the Goa'uld larvae. They revered their gods, and in exchange those parasites sent them to die for them. Honorable, intelligent, loving of their families, but they could also be fanatic zealots to their gods. Despite all that, they believed, they really believed in the righteousness of their actions. They were ignorant, but they were also used, so in that way they were innocent of many of the crimes of their gods." Delies paused for a second to gather her thoughts on this unexpected topic.

"At the end we had pushed the Goa'uld back, there were still a few dozen elder Goa'uld left, supported by hundreds of younger ones. Those remaining parasites had millions of Jaffa left and billions of human followers, ones that even to this day still refuse to accept the reality of their gods. Each Jaffa prepared to lay down not only their lives, but the lives of their families as well.

There was a planet called 'Nfr', it means beautiful in ancient Egyptian. It was a major planet for one of the few remaining System Lords. It was also a staging area for raids that were targeting primitive human worlds, as well as attacking our supply convoys. So we dealt with it. The Navy cleared the way, and we landed a full Corps worth of Troops. We thought the Jaffa and human population would rally to us, that they would rise up and help us pull down their false god." Angela paused and met Laura's eyes. "That's what we thought anyway, but they didn't think the same way we did. Civilians, woman and children armed with staff weapons fought us in the city streets, they charged our tanks. Every city, every town, all of them fought for their beliefs. By the time it was all over we had lost tens of thousands and they had hundreds of thousands die."

Angela again paused for a second before continuing. "So we had a choice. We could continue down the path we had started, kill the Goa'uld that was left. In the process kill millions, probably billions of people whose only real crime was praying to the wrong god. We said we cherished freedom, freedom of religion, we said we cherished life, all life. So we had to try, one last attempt at peace. The alternative would have been to become the very monsters we were fighting. To force worlds and people to bend to our will, and to commit genocide in what was really becoming a religious war."

Angela walked over to Laura and touched the framed certificate. "I was a junior diplomat back then, one of five who helped Ambassador Zhou. It's not a perfect peace, mind you, but it is peace. I keep this certificate to remind me there are always alternatives, always another path to take. You need the military, but you also need the diplomats. In this case the diplomatic victory was a better choice then what the military victory would have been."

Laura met the other woman's eyes and gave a slight nod. "Thank you for sharing that. I think I understand what you are saying."

Angela returned Laura's stare evenly. "I hope you do." Angela cleared her throat and in a clear voice said. "Madame President, I bring news. I think it would be best if you were to sit down for what I have to say." With that Angela led Roslin back to her seat and sat down across from her.

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General O'Neill followed Captain Miyake as she led him to her private office just off of the bridge. "Sir, do you want me to wait outside?"

"No that won't be necessary Captain, I think I can find my way back. Why don't you get back to dinner and make sure that Rudenko and Cunningham don't kill each other." O'Neill said with a grin.

O'Neill turned back to the room and waited for the door too close, before activating the security lockdown. Sitting down in the comfortable seat he reached forward and activated the computer screen in front of him. "Contact the Mountain, secure communications center."

"Identification and confirmation required." The ship's computer responded.

A soprano thought O'Neill with mild surprise, he shook his head softly as he answered. "O'Neill, Johnathon. General JO6122."

There was a slight pause as the computer scanned the human sitting before it, once it was convinced that it was indeed General O'Neill it connected to the Mountain.

The screen switched from the logo of the _Suffren_ to the face of an enlisted tech. "Secure Communications Center, the Mountain. This is Master Sergeant Sanchez speaking."

"Sergeant this is General O'Neill."

"Yes Sir. Please hold for Colonel Dinh." The MSG responded.

The screen switched to the logo of the Mountain for a few seconds and then switched to the Colonel. "Sir, I am Colonel Dinh, the watch officer for the center. At 1746 hours Mountain Time, we received a Priority Delta level message packet from the Secretary of Defense's office. It is addressed to you and marked 'no immediate action required', Sir."

"Fine Colonel, go ahead and send the message here to the _Suffren_."

"Yes, Sir. Standby please." A few seconds later and; "Data transfer complete Sir. Do you require anything else?" The Colonel politely asked.

"No, thank you." O'Neill said as he confirmed that the 'Secure Message Received' prompt appeared on the computer screen.

With a touch on the screen the window with the Colonel closed and O'Neill opened the Delta level message. He was whistling softly as he read. Delta level was the lowest of the secure ratings, so it would not have any potentially Earth-Shattering content. He suddenly stopped whistling as the import of Stanley Witward's conversation with the Cylons hit home.

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The desperate mob onboard the _Colonial Movers Five_ freighter surged forward as the doors to the hangar bay opened. The call had come through from a sympathetic deckhand, two Tau'ri shuttles had recently landed and the possibility of food was a siren's song. Many of the people in the group were exactly what they appeared to be, hungry, desperate, and looking to do what they could for their families. A few of them were there for a different reason, these select few were hoping to take advantage of a potential riot. The chance to snatch some supplies and later sell them on the black market could be very lucrative.

A few men, that were notable in that they, weren't quite as haggard as the others around them were the paid troublemakers. It was their job to stir up the mob, while others grabbed what they could. It was a good plan and they had used it with varying degrees of success in the past. The fact that the riots were making it harder to disseminate the food was an added benefit. The continuing food shortages served to increase the prices of the food that was available.

So it came as quite a surprise that when they surged forward they were met, not by the expected threadbare line of Colonial Marines but something else entirely. Arrayed before them was a line of thirty or so troops of some kind. A few who had access to the working televisions onboard the ship recognized them as Tau'ri Marines. All but two of them wore fully enclosed helmets, they all had their rifles slung behind their backs. Instead each Marine carried a rod about two feet long or so, with a prong on the end that had golden sparks flashing from it. Each and every single person in the mob stopped well short of the silent Tau'ri line.

One of the ring leaders that had been hanging in the back pushed forward to stand alongside one of the paid thugs. "Well, what are you waiting for? This is what we pay you for."

"Well frak that! You're not paying me enough for some Thirteener to shove some kind of fraking cattle-prod up my ass! You want the food, go ahead, I'm right behind you big guy." The thug answered with a sneer.

As they watched a Colonial Marine Sergeant walked through the Tau'ri line and gave the mob an appraising look. He had two black eyes, and his nose had a splint on it, but he had a monumental smile on his face as he addressed the crowd.

"So…does anyone think it's a good idea to bum rush the shuttle today? Anyone? No? Well how's about we try it my way today and form two lines so we can get you people the food you need and get you back to your families as fast as we can? What do you think, sound like a plan?"

The Sergeant watched as the Colonial civilians formed two lines with a minimum of pushing and shoving. Things were looking up he thought, nothing like a little visual threat to make people act human.

"I think you enjoyed that, Sergeant." Said the Tau'ri Marine Lieutenant as she walked up.

"Hells yes Ma'am, I enjoyed it." The Sergeant said as he matched the smile on the Tau'ri officer's face.

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Laura sat down with a feeling of trepidation. Delies had addressed her in a very formal manner when she had asked her to sit. The impression that she received was that it would not be good news. Roslin took a deep breath and plunged in. "What is it, Ms. Delies, what has happened?"

Angela met Laura's eyes, and paused. This woman had been through hell, an emotional rollercoaster, and it was about to get worse. It seemed, to Angela, that the multiverse had decided that the Colonials in general, and Roslin specifically was the universal punching bag. Well, in the end there was really no easy way to broach the subject, so Delies just dove in.

"As you are aware, I received a message from Stanley Witward. I had tasked him to deliver Earth's answer to the Cylon's request for political asylum. In the process of delivering that message, new information has come too light." Angela paused for a second. "It seems that the Cylons have knowledge of the fact that there are other Colonial survivors."

Laura froze. A second later she felt her hands begin to shake and she ruthlessly exerted control over them. More of her people, alive? My gods, could it be? Maybe, just maybe Colonial culture would not die within a generation or two, maybe, just maybe they were about to get a second chance.

"How…" Laura's voice cracked, and she took a second to compose herself before continuing. "How many more people?"

"The Cylons believe several million of your people have survived." Delies responded.

"Several million? My gods, my gods." Laura paused she was literally at a loss for words. Her first thoughts had been one of joy, but those thoughts were rapidly giving way too much darker ones. "Why didn't they tell us this before? What gave them the right to withhold this? How can they possibly justify this latest outrage?" She spoke in a low even voice, but the menace in her words was clear.

"They believed that they were doing you a service." Angela replied evenly. Delies had decided the best thing to do at this point was to let Roslin work out her conflicting feelings.

"A service? How so, by making sure that we couldn't help them? By making sure that they could kill what was left with a minimum of fuss? Don't you see, can you not see what you are really dealing with here, they are liars! They will lie to you every chance they get; they will give you half-truths when it suits them. You can't trust them. What was their price for this information? Tell me what are a few million of my people worth?" Laura could no longer control the shaking of her hands, so she chose to grasp the armrests of her chair in a death grip instead.

"They placed no price on this information. They willingly surrendered it." Angela replied softly.

Laura was desperately trying to regain control. It was simply too much, first the revelations about the gods and now the fact that she had abandoned millions of her people to death. It didn't matter that she was ignorant of their existence, she was the President, it was her responsibility. Laura felt as if her sanity was slipping away, and part of her really wanted to let go, to simply scream her hate at the universe. She struggled to control herself, to center herself and deal with the situation.

Angela watched the internal struggle play itself out on Roslin's face. This was something that Laura had to deal with herself, so Angela kept quiet and waited.

With a visible effort Laura regained control. "What are your intentions?"

"In regards to what specifically, Madame President?" As Delies saw it Roslin would choose one of two paths. Either Roslin would ask what was to be done about her people, or she would ask what was to be done with the Cylons. If Roslin's first impulse was to worry about the welfare of her people, then Delies would be satisfied that the Colonial President was rational. If, on the other hand, she was more worried about punishing the Cylons then her hate was all consuming, and she would be useless as a leader.

"My people. What can Earth do for the millions of people still out there. The millions of people that have no future, no chance, and most of all no hope?" Roslin ground out.

Angela sighed, grateful that a defining moment had passed. "I can make no promises at this time Madame President. Any decision on this subject will be dealt with at a much higher level than me. This will almost certainly be a military as well as a political decision." Angela paused for a second to let her words sink in before continuing. "However, I can tell you that Earth has a history of rushing to the aid of people in need. We recognized a long time ago that we could not and would not allow suffering to define the universe. Whether you accept it or not Madame President, Earth is the Mother of Humanity, and Earth takes care of her children."

Roslin visibly relaxed. "Thank you. I need to talk to Admiral Adama. I need to let him know what's happened."

Angela chose her next words carefully. "Madame President, Laura, immediately after I was notified, the Mountain was notified. Your Admiral is on a Navy cruiser in a meeting with arguably the second most powerful person in the Galaxy. General O'Neill will have been notified by the Mountain, I guarantee it. He'll tell Adama what's happened, and Adama will be in a better position to act on this information than either of us. Don't get in the way of that."

"I don't understand; how could he do that?" Roslin asked.

"As I said, he's with General O'Neill. If Adama can persuade O'Neill to help than you can bet, we will. Any decision that O'Neill makes, the Secretary of Defense will back-up. And if the Secretary of Defense and General O'Neill hold that position the President will surely support it. Give Adama a chance to deal with this." Delies replied.

Roslin could see the logic behind the argument that the Tau'ri diplomat presented. "I trust Admiral Adama completely, he'll do the right thing. He always does."

Delies smiled. "Besides Madame President, we still have unfinished business here. We need to get you a planet, we need to get your people off of those ships."

Roslin gave a small forced smile before answering Delies. "Your right, we need to do that. But I have a question for you."

Angela braced for the question, she saw it coming.

"What will you do about those lying machines?"

Angela slowly shook her head, and gave a small chuckle. It was expected, but at least the Colonial President had her priorities straight. Roslin could function as a leader for her people, but she needed to control her hate. Time for some tough love, Angela decided.

"Do, Madame President? I will grant them asylum of course." She held up her hand as Roslin began to retort. "Lying machines? Do you remember when I said there was no cost for the information given by them? When I said that, I meant there was no cost to us. They, on the other hand, were prepared to pay a terrible price for that information. We could have denied them any help as a result of that little revelation. We could have packed them all up in that Baseship of theirs and thrown them out of our space, or worse. For all they know we could have simply executed them out of hand! But they still willingly surrendered that information, regardless of the potential cost. Information that no one would ever have been the wiser to." Angela paused for a second, her eyes flashing in anger. "They chose to withhold that information because they feared that Admiral Adama would turn the _Galactica_ back to try and assist those still trapped. They were afraid that if the _Galactica_ left, the Remnant Fleet would have been destroyed. Whether it was a good decision or not, they saw the lives of the fifty-thousand people on those ships as sacrosanct." Again Angela paused.

"You hate them, fine, I understand that will almost certainly never change. And to be honest with you, I no longer care. Your people will be well taken care of, and so will the Cylons. You can either accept that or not, it makes little difference to me! Now shall we continue the discussion regarding your future world, or shall we waste more time on useless banter that will have absolutely no effect on the inevitable outcome?"

Laura sucked her breath in. She felt her face heat up, it had been a long time since anyone had spoken to her in that manner. She fought to regain her temper, and realized that it was getting easier to do so. Laura reached up and squeezed the bridge of her nose, before meeting Angela's eyes.

"I hate them, I will never stop hating them, and I will never accept their apology." Laura paused and sighed. "But I will accept that I have no control over the situation. I will accept that in their own way they are trying to do what they think is right. I accept that the final outcome, as it currently exists, is probably the best that can be expected or hoped for."

"It is." Angela nodded as she replied.

"Very well Angela, I apologize for my outbreak. Regardless of my feelings, I understand that you are doing the best you can for my people. I thank you for that." Laura said in a calm and even voice.

"No apology required Madame President. I understand that you also are doing the very best you can under difficult conditions. Shall we continue?"

"Yes, we need to continue." Laura replied.

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Admiral Adama was enjoying himself immensely. It had been almost an hour since O'Neill had left and Adama and the officers had moved on to desert. Adama was laughing in between bites of something called cheesecake, as he watched the severely outnumbered General Rudenko attempt to fend off repeated attacks against his beloved Army.

"Typical of the Navy, you wait until you have outnumbered me ten to one, and you still have failed to win the contest." Rudenko roared good naturedly.

"Ha, we don't need numbers to beat you Artyom, you Army types could outnumber us ten to one and we would still have a higher combined IQ." Cunningham shot back.

Adama grinned as he watched Rudenko growl at the Admiral. He had missed this greatly, Adama realized. The easy camaraderie of the service, the jokes and stories that no civilian could ever really understand. Family, Adama admitted, this is my family.

They were still laughing and trading jokes when General O'Neill returned. They all started to rise from their seats but O'Neill gestured for them to stay seated. All the officers noticed that there had been a change in the demeanor of the General.

"Is there something wrong, Sir?" Asked Admiral Cunningham.

"I'm afraid so, Justin. O'Neill replied. "As much as I hate being a wet blanket, and call a halt to this incredible dinner, we need to talk. Captain, thank you so much for this incredible evening, your ship's hospitality has been memorable. I need to meet in private with the flag officers, do you have a place we could borrow?"

"Of course, Sir. The VIP day cabin is available Sir, or would you prefer a more formal format?" Miyake answered nonplussed.

"The cabin's fine." O'Neill said.

A CA433 was not a Command Cruiser so it didn't come equipped with an Admiral's stateroom, but she did carry two VIP cabins on the off chance she ever carried any. It was to one of these that Captain Miyake escorted her eminent guests. The flag officers filed into the luxurious day cabin along with General O'Neill's aide. Commodore Castula realized that she had not been included in General O'Neill's "flag officer" request so she accompanied Miyake back to the bridge to await whatever outcome was forthcoming.

General O'Neill took a seat in a comfortable recliner while the other senior officers sat in sofas around him.

"Gary." O'Neill said.

Captain Russel opened the small pack he was carrying and removed a bottle of Talisker Single Malt Scotch. He then carefully removed four shot glasses that were etched with the insignia of the office of General O'Neill as well as the date.

Jack waited till Russel had passed each of the senior officers a filled glass before starting to talk.

"Before I say anything else, I just want to welcome you Admiral Adama to our fraternity. I want you to know you're not alone and that you will always have us to watch your back." With that O'Neill downed the shot in his glass.

Adama downed the shot along with everyone else and felt the smooth whiskey trace a path down his throat. "Mmm, that's good." He said appreciatively.

O'Neill smiled softly.

"I received a secure message from the Secretary of Defense." O'Neill began. "It had to deal with a report that was forwarded by a Mr. Stanley Witward, regarding a conversation he had with the Cylons."

Adama leaned forward as he realized that this secure message obviously had something to do with him.

"Apparently, they have stated that there are additional Colonial survivors left back in your home system Admiral." O'Neill said as he met Adama's eyes.

Adama slowly leaned back in the comfortable sofa. He reached up and with both hands rubbed his eyes.

"Did they say how many more?" Adama asked.

"Several million." O'Neill replied.

Adama abruptly dropped his hands from his face and fixed General O'Neill with an intense stare. "Excuse me?"

"Apparently, other Battlestars survived and they along with some other warships have been conducting hit and run raids against the Cylons. They hit when they want and break contact before becoming bogged down in a major fight. They've made life hell for the Cylons." O'Neill said.

"Oh my gods. I left them behind, I failed in my duties." Adama said.

"That's not fair Admiral!" Cunningham snapped. "You had no way of knowing. You did what you thought best, given the information you had available at the time. Failed in your duties? I'm damn sure if I take a jaunt over to those civilian ships of yours the vast majority would tell me the exact opposite."

Rudenko leaned forward as Cunningham stopped to collect his thoughts. "My Brother in the Navy is right Bill. I have seen many acts of courage and valor in my time, and yours is a story to inspire those that will come after you. You have no reason to tear yourself apart, the exact opposite my friend. You have given those millions hope."

Adama turned to stare at Rudenko with haunted eyes. "Given them hope? I may as well have passed a death sentence on them, they have no hope."

"Wrong Admiral." O'Neill took charge of the conversation. "Artyom is right. Whether they know it or not, you have given them hope. Hope that something will be done, hope that they not only can but will survive. I mean no disrespect to you or your service Bill, but what you did was go tell the rest of the family what happened. And this family rolls deep Admiral."

Adama felt a spark of hope at the General's words.

"Will you repair the _Galactica_? Will you allow me to go back and try and save what I can?" Adama asked.

O'Neill met Adama's eyes and stared into them, gauging the strength of the man before him. "Yes, we'll fix the _Galactica_. And no, I will not allow you to go back." O'Neill held up one finger to forestall any interruption by the Colonial Admiral.

"When you go back Admiral, you won't go alone, and you won't go on the _Galactica_." O'Neill said quietly.

"Justin?" O'Neill said as he turned toward the Tau'ri Admiral.

Cunningham nodded and began to talk. "We're going to need to put some dedicated Task Groups together. Probably going to need to have a major Army component. We're looking at twelve planets, so we need to be able to secure their local space as well as land troops. Probably need a tender or two, plus at least one hospital ship. So that means escorts for the support ships as well. It's going to be a major undertaking, and not one we could put together on the fly. But it is very doable, Sir."

"Why not use Fourth Fleet? It is what that fleet exists for, isn't it?" Rudenko asked.

"We don't need Fourth Fleet, Home Fleet can do it, these planets are in the Milky Way." Cunningham snapped with surprising vehemence.

Rudenko raised his hands chest high. "Peace my Brother I did not mean to disparage you or your fleet."

Cunningham smiled sheepishly at his overreaction. "Sorry."

O'Neill inwardly winced. Inter-service rivalry was one thing intra-service was another thing completely. The Republic maintained one major fleet per Galaxy, Home Fleet, 3rd Fleet, and 5th Fleet, each one of those were tasked to provide defense as well as order within their respective Galaxies. 4th Fleet was something different, it's area of operation encompassed all Republic territory. If the other three fleets were the shield of the Republic, then 4th Fleet was definitely it's sword. And while any fleet command was considered the crowning jewel of any career, well some jewels were more valuable than others. 4th received the newest ships, and many of the personnel saw it as the ultimate prestige assignment, even more so then the vaunted Home Fleet.

"No one is saying that Home Fleet can't handle this assignment Justin. I have every confidence that your Fleet will explain to the Cylons why they don't want to be the playground bully anymore."

Cunningham nodded accepting the mild rebuke.

"Like I said Bill, your one of us, and we roll deep." O'Neill said.

"Sir, we're going to need one more major thing." Cunningham said and then turned his attention to Adama.

"Admiral we're going to need your navigational data, we need to know where we are going."

Adama was surprised at just how quickly events had happened, what could have been potentially terrible news now actually had a sense of hope. "Call me Bill."

"As long as you call me Justin."

Adama smiled. "Done Justin. I'll have my logs and charts transferred to you as soon as possible."

"It's going to take some time Bill to get this put together, but as soon as we can will go say hello to the rest of your people. From what I've read Bill, it sounds like your ships are giving the Cylons hell over there." O'Neill finished.

Adama gave a predatory smile.

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Three hours later Leoben and D'Anna were still sitting quietly together in front of the great window looking out over the sprawling Emerson Lunar base. Hanging over the base was the serene blue ball that was Earth. When the doors finally opened again Leoben turned around, half expecting it to be guards come to take them into custody. He was mildly surprised when just Witward came back in.

"Mr. Witward." Said Leoben by way of greeting.

"Mr. Conoy, Ms. Biers. Shall we have a seat and continue our discussion from earlier?" Witward said.

"That would be very welcome." Leoben smiled and was relieved when Witward returned a matching one.

"First let me start by saying, after further reflection, that you showed great personal courage in providing the information you did. I have passed that information on up the chain and I expect that it has almost certainly made it to the people that have the power to act on it. Ambassador Delies, my superior, asked me to pass on her compliments for your honesty." Stanley paused to let that little bit of information sink in before continuing.

"Is there any other pertinent information that you may be privy to before we continue?" Witward asked.

"No, nothing else." D'Anna answered.

Stanley gave a reassuring smile before continuing. "I have been instructed and empowered to provide you with the following agreement, provided you are willing to meet the conditions that the Tau'ri Republic has set out for you."

Both Leoben and D'Anna indicated their willingness to listen to the proposal, so Witward continued.

"One. The Cylons will surrender their ship and all weapons to the Tau'ri Republic. Two. The Cylons will renounce any and all claims to any territory within the Cyrannus Sector or the so-called redline. Three. The Cylons will immediately declare an unconditional peace to exist between the Twelve Colonies of Kobol and the Cylon Combine. Four. The Cylons will admit to the crime of attempted genocide." Witward said in a clear voice.

"Admit to our crime?" D'Anna asked aghast.

Leoben reached over and placed his hand over hers and gently squeezed.

"Your avowed aim was the complete destruction of the life-form known as man, was it not? By definition that is genocide." Witward retorted.

"Please continue Mr. Witward." Leoben replied quietly.

"In exchange for these concessions the Tau'ri Republic is prepared to grant you Political Asylum within the borders of the Republic. Because of your role in the safeguarding of the Remnant Fleet, you will not be charged with or prosecuted for the past crimes. The President has agreed to grant clemency. The Cylon Combine will receive fair monetary compensation for the surrendered ship as well as any tech onboard the ship. The planet De'vron in the Ida Galaxy has agreed to accept you as refugees, with the understanding that if your people become accepted members of that population you will be eligible for full citizenship within ten standard years. You will be protected and you will be separated from the Colonials. We believe that in a few generations your peoples will be better able to interact with each other. Till such time as that, we will endeavor to keep the Colonials and you separated." Witward paused again.

"It's a good deal, and your people will have the chance to prosper under these conditions." Witward finished.

"I assume that Earth will send forces to the Cyrannus Sector?" Leoben asked.

"I am not privy to the intentions of my government in regards to the Cyrannus Sector. However, I believe that your assumption is probably a safe one." Witward replied.

"What will happen to my people there?" Leoben asked.

"Again it is not my place to make policy or even really comment on it. Having said that, I would think that their fate would depend on their actions. The Tau'ri military does not fire on surrendered individuals or groups. The military has always attempted to minimize collateral damage. But the Tau'ri military has never shied away from doing what is required to secure victory either." Witward said.

"If we were to agree to this how soon would we be transported do De'vron?" Leoben asked.

"There are a few thousand of you in total. You of course understand, that you would have to undergo medical checks as well as being processed into the Republic. You would also receive papers and identification, as well as having a debrief completed. This process will probably take anywhere from two to three weeks. After we have completed your processing we could have all of you on De'vron within a day or so." Witward replied.

"A day? I thought you said De'vron was in a different galaxy." Leoben asked surprised.

"It is." Witward answered.

"Just how fast are your ships?" D'Anna asked incredulously.

"Fast, very fast. But who said anything about using a ship to transport you?" Witward replied with a smile.

Leoben turned to D'Anna, and she nodded imperceptibly to his unvoiced question. Leoben turned back to Witward.

"Mr. Witward before we make any decision we need to communicate with the rest of our people."

"I understand Mr. Conoy. I can arrange for a shuttle to transport you to either the _Galactica_ or the Baseship." Witward offered.

"Thank you. If possible we would like to talk to both groups of our people." Leoben said.

"That is easily done. Come let us arrange transport as well as an escort for you."

With those words Witward stood and led the Cylons from the conference room.

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Saul and Shar had just left the conference room of the _Galactica_ after a long and boring meeting. Both were looking forward to a drink in the below decks bar, when Tigh was paged. Grumbling Tigh walked over to the nearest phone.

"CIC this is the XO." Tigh stifled a yawn as he talked into the sound powered phone.

"Sir, we've just received a transmission from _Galactica_ actual. He will be departing the _Suffren_ and asks that you assemble the staff in the conference room to brief him on the recommended course of action in regards to the refit." The communications Chief reported.

"Fine, I'll get a quick bite and meet him in the landing bay." Tigh answered.

"Sir, he said he would be in the conference room momentarily and expected to see you there." Came the reply.

"That doesn't make any sense, what do you mean momentarily?" Tigh's voice rose at the absurdity of the message.

"Sir, I'm sorry but that is the message." The communications Chief cringed on the other side of the line. Tigh's temper was well known on the ship, and he braced for the expected explosion.

"Well, page the staff and have them meet me in the conference room. Is Captain Varsas still onboard?" Tigh demanded.

"Yes Sir, he's already in the conference room." The Chief answered.

With a muted curse Tigh slammed the receiver back into its cradle terminating the conversation.

He turned to find Shar hovering near him, obviously listening in. What threw Tigh off was the fact that Shar had a huge grin on his face.

"What' so funny?" Tigh asked cautiously.

"Nothing, just enjoying the ambience. Why do you ask?" Shar replied.

Now Saul became downright paranoid. Shar was up to something and he was the likely target. "Fine, I don't have time for any games anyway, let's go and see what the hells is going on."

"Hell, there's one hell." Shar said with a smile.

"Maybe where you're from, but where I come from there's more than one." Saul replied.

"Why, is one hell not big enough for that ego of yours?" Shar asked innocently.

"Oh, you're in rare form today." Tigh snapped.

The two made their way back to the conference room and were met by the sight of Captain Varsas in deep conversation with the staff. Saul took a step towards the group with the intention of asking the Tau'ri Captain if he knew what was going on. He never made it.

With a flash of light Admiral Adama appeared less than ten feet away from him.

Tigh jumped back. "What the frak was that!" He bellowed.

Shar was laughing hysterically next to him. "You should have seen the look on your face, if you had any hair left it'd be standing on end!"

"You bastard, you could have warned me. I almost had a heart attack!" Tigh growled.

Shar stopped laughing and replied in a deadpan voice; "Why would I do that, I was hoping you'd make my day and have one."

Tigh restrained himself from popping Shar right in the mouth.

Captain Varsas cleared his throat pointedly. "Gentlemen." He wasn't quite sure if he should use that term when it came to Tigh and Shar, but in any case, this wasn't the place for their games.

"Admiral welcome back Sir." Varsas intoned.

"Thank you Captain. Are you prepared to brief me on the plan for the refit?" Adama asked.

"Yes Sir, I am." Varsas replied.

"Well there has been a development, so I want to expedite her repairs." Adama paused and scanned the faces around him. "Mr. Theran I want you to pull a copy of our navigation charts, plus our nav logs and send them to the Home Fleet HQ in orbit around Earth. Their expecting them." Adama watched as the young Lieutenant moved off to carry out his orders. He took a seat at the head of the table and waited for everyone to sit down.

"Alright Captain you have my undivided attention."


End file.
